


The Sins of the Father

by roane



Series: Birthright: The Palpatine Twins 'verse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dark, Brother/Sister Incest, Emotional Manipulation, Emperor Palpatine is a creepy bastard no matter the universe, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s), Multi, Retelling, Secret Identity, Unhealthy Relationships, past anakin/padme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roane/pseuds/roane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EPISODE IV: THE SINS OF THE FATHER</p>
<p>It is a period of civil war. The fledgling REBELLION has scored its first victory against the evil EMPIRE, capturing the plans to the feared DEATH STAR.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, on Coruscant, the Imperial capital, the royal heir, LUKE PALPATINE, and his sister LEIA, are the terror of the Imperial Court. Luke has been raised to ensure the tyrannical hold the Empire has over the galaxy never falters. Leia, disregarded for being second-born and a girl, bitterly contents herself with keeping her brother on a tight leash. For now.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, their birth father, the evil lord DARTH VADER, watches his children grow ever stronger and more deadly, and begins to regret what he has wrought. </p>
<p>When the twins hire a smuggler to get them off Coruscant in secret, committed to a course of action that will seal their fates, Vader's only hope of saving his children may lie in two of the unlikeliest of places: smuggler HAN SOLO, and the Empire's worst enemy, the leader of the Rebellion....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, this never would have happened if I hadn't seen [this manip of Luke and Leia as raised by Vader](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/139301413422/ohtze-hhuxx-in-which-anakin-gets-to-raise), which punched all my buttons and got my brain working on this, which went from "what if evil twin incest" to "what would have happened during A New Hope".
> 
> Second, it never would have happened without the insight and encouragement and beta work from prettyarbitrary and persian-slipper, both of whom have shamelessly enabled me and helped me figure out character and plot points. Also wintergrey, who let me spend an entire weekend in Canada talking his ear off about this.

The _Tantive IV_ had fought valiantly to the last but in the end, Darth Vader boarded the vessel with his stormtroopers in tow. He'd hoped for a little more of a fight; by the time he boarded, there was nothing but a token resistance left to mop up. And not many survivors. 

The stormtroopers brought him one of the remaining officers. The man wore a brave face, but Vader knew panic when he saw it.

One of his own officers approached. "The Death Star plans are not in the main computer."

Not the answer that Darth Vader wanted to hear. He seized the ship's officer by the neck and lifted him until his feet left the deck. "Where are those transmissions you intercepted?"

The officer struggled to breathe, his feet starting to kick in vain. "We intercepted no transmissions. This is a consular ship. We're on a... diplomatic mission." Vader knew how often "diplomatic missions" covered for military purposes. He'd used the same ruse himself more than once, long ago. "If this is a consular ship, where is the ambassador?"

The officer died rather than answer him. Useless. Vader tossed his body aside and turned to his officer. "Commander, tear this ship apart until you've found those plans and bring me the ambassador. I want her alive!"

They scurried to obey. Darth Vader strode down the hallway. _I know this is your doing. Are you on board this ship right now? Are you an "ambassador" now?_

He'd have to wait and see who this "ambassador" was, if she was the woman he sought.

#

The Palpatine twins were bored, and anyone who worked in the Imperial Palace knew the best place to be when that happened was "as far away as possible."

The Emperor was away, leaving his heir, Luke, nominally in charge of the palace. Mostly, this was really was nothing more than an excuse for a "state dinner": the prince, his sister Leia, and whichever of their fifty to sixty closest friends were available. The evening had involved enough wine and Corellian brandy that the noise level was high and the mood boisterous.

Nonetheless, the prince was sulking at the head of the table, sprawled with his legs draped over the arm of the chair, careless of the goblet in his hand. Leia was at his side, as she always was, leaning over the back of the chair to whisper something to him. He whispered something in return, and she glared at him. Rumors in the court said that both were receiving Sith training from their father, Darth Vader, but neither acknowledged it publicly. There was something of the uncanny about them, in any case, perhaps in the way they seemed to communicate with each other without words, or move as one when faced with a common target.

A casual observer would not think them twins. Although they were both slender and both favored red and black clothing, Luke was the fairer of the two, with his light brown hair and bright blue eyes compared to his sister's darker hair and piercing dark eyes. The true similarities lay deeper. Quick-witted, quick-tempered, and quick to hold a grudge, Luke and Leia were equally dangerous on a sparring ground and in a ballroom.

And, perhaps, in a dining room.

Luke swung his legs around, his black boots thudding on the floor as he sat up. The dinner guests turned as he leaned forward on the table. "This is dull. Who wants to race?"

A murmur went around the table, overdressed guests looking at each other. 

"Oh come on." Luke stood up, leaning farther. "Fifty thousand credits to anyone who can beat me. TIE fighters, here to the Financial District and back. Anybody?" 

At the mention of that much money, a few braver souls looked around. A couple of potential pilots stood up. 

"Excellent. Come on, we'll get suited up." He grinned and it made him look younger than his nineteen years. "I'll even let you have first pick of the ships."

Leia caught his arm as he came around the chair. "What are you doing?"

"Entertaining myself, since you wouldn't." He tapped his sister on the cheek. He shrugged out of the high-collared jacket she'd picked for him and handed it to her. It was her favorite, the one with the metallic trim that made his dark-lined eyes edge toward silver. 

She scoffed. "You're too drunk to fly a drone, much less a TIE fighter. You're going to get yourself killed."

Luke stood straighter, affecting the pose of a drunk man convinced that he's sober. "As much as I know how heartbroken you would be if anything happened to me, I'm sober enough to fly anything." He made a sound that was suspiciously like a giggle and nodded toward the three competitors waiting for him. "Which is more than I can say for those three. They're gonna be dust."

"Pretty soon you're going to run out of dupes, you know."

"Sure, but not tonight." Luke grinned down at her and she couldn't help but smile back. She hated him a little for that grin. It always got him what he wanted.

"What do you get if you win?" she asked.

He offered Leia his arm and she took it, and together they led the party toward the docking bay. "Depends. What are you offering?"

Leia rolled her eyes inwardly. He was so predictable. Outwardly she lowered her lashes and smiled, pressing against his arm. "Win first, then we'll talk."

"I always win."

While they were getting into flight suits, Luke took a look at who was going to be flying against him. Trip was a hell of a lot drunker than Luke was, and couldn't fly in a straight line sober, so no competition there. Shala was a good pilot, but good in a freighter wasn't good in a TIE, and he knew from… intimate experience that her reflexes were no match for his. Cordeno was the only non-human, the son of the Rodian senator. An inveterate gambler, Cordeno was also his only real competition. Despite the fact that the cockpit of a TIE fighter was designed for a human pilot, Cordeno had adapted well. Plus, the Rodian flew dirty.

This was going to be fun.

The docking bay of the palace always had at least a dozen TIE fighters on standby, on the off chance of an attack on the Emperor. Luke waved the stormtroopers away from the first four, and the competitors climbed up. Luke paused outside the cockpit to give the instructions.

"We're going here to the outer rim of the Financial District and back. First one wins. No heading to the underworld, and _no lasers_." He looked pointedly at Shala, who gave him an innocent look.

"Traffic's gonna be heavy this time of night, Your Highness," Cordeno said.

"It's fifty thousand credits, Cordeno, I never said it was going to be easy." Luke pulled on his helmet and settled into the cockpit.

Settling behind the controls of any ship felt more like coming home than any place else in the galaxy. In that, Luke took after his father. He flipped the switches to power up the ship, already mapping out a route in his mind. He knew every canyon and valley of the Imperial City, knew where the traffic lanes jumbled and where they stayed clear.

When Leia gave the signal to start, Luke immediately took the lead, soaring into the night sky.

One advantage to racing in a TIE fighter: slower traffic in airspeeders got out of your way in a hurry. Luke laughed as the other vehicles scattered in front of him. His radar showed him what he expected; Cordeno was the only one even close to catching him. The other two were farther back. 

Luke swooped down three skylanes and found a clear path. The Rodian followed him—of course, he'd follow every move Luke made. Not far behind Cordeno was Shala, using the same tactic. Trip wasn't even on the radar anymore. One down, two to go.

"Trip took out a building," Shala reported over the comms.

"Looks more like the building took him out," Luke said. 

The three remaining fighters screeched through the city with Luke leading the other two on a chase from low to high and back down again. Cordeno narrowly missed clipping the side of a building. Was that a piece of a strut Luke saw fall away? 

Cordeno caught up to him and pulled alongside, and yes, the other TIE fighter had picked up an almost imperceptible wobble. Luke filed that knowledge away.

Shala caught up with them when they reached the Financial District. They flew through the lighter traffic three abreast, each struggling to pull away and take the lead. When they reached the outer edge, Luke hauled back hard on the stick, pulling the TIE straight up, then over on its back to make the turn, gravity trying to tear him from the sky.

His face hurt from grinning and he let out a whoop. 

The maneuver gave him a few extra seconds ahead of Cordeno and Shala. He dove back down, sprinting through the Imperial Military District back towards the Palace.

Wobble or no, Cordeno caught him again just under a thousand meters from the palace. Luke was ready when Cordeno veered and slammed his TIE fighter into Luke's. The side panels clashed and sparks flew. Alarms sounded in the cockpit. With his heart racing and adrenaline pumping, Luke fought to keep his ship under control. 

TIE fighters were agile, but as a result had next to no armor. Plus, the controls were touchy as hell. One wrong move, and both of them would go spinning into oblivion.

Or… he realized, one right move. Grinning like a madman, Luke counted off seconds in his head, then swiveled his TIE fighter just the smallest bit, giving Cordeno a solid bump underneath his right panel.

Cordeno cursed into the comms as his TIE started to spiral out of control.

Luke closed on the Imperial Palace as a small flash of fire behind him confirmed that Cordeno was out of the race. Shala was too far back to catch him now.

He landed in the bay several seconds before Shala; in fact, he was already halfway out of the cockpit before she touched down. The remaining party guests cheered for him as his boots hit the floor and he pulled off his helmet. All right, so maybe Cordeno's and Trip's companions weren't cheering, but it wasn't like they didn't know what they were risking. 

The crowd surrounded him and something in him glowed warm at the approbation. Leia went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and Shala approached him, her short gold hair ruffled by the helmet. Her eyes were hard, but she offered him her hand anyway.

Grinning at her, he bowed over her gloved hand and gave it the faintest touch of his lips. As he'd hoped, she wavered for just a second before she returned the smile.

The party started to wind down after that.

#

Hours later, Luke woke in his own bed with a vague memory of having gotten there. He wasn't alone. A glance over his shoulder revealed short gold hair to match the warmth of the body pressed against his back. In his arms, where she spent almost every night, and had since they were sixteen, was Leia.

Her fierceness melted away in sleep; she'd probably be horrified to know that. He should tell her someday, just to see her reaction. He brushed a kiss to her temple and she murmured in her sleep. 

Their relationship was an open secret in the palace. Who was going to tell them no? They'd talked about it once, long ago, and Leia had rightfully pointed out that neither of them would ever find someone who understood them better. For all that she could be cruel, he loved her. Maybe he loved her because of that cruelty and not in spite of it.

His body stirred and he kissed her again. Half-asleep, she responded by throwing her arms around his neck. When she opened her eyes, smudged with sleep and eye makeup, they were already glowing with heat. She pushed him onto his back and they moved carefully so as not to awaken Shala. 

Then her mouth was on his and nothing else mattered. He plunged his hands into her hair, the hair she took down just for him. He told himself that no one else got to see her like this. 

Leia would never tell him otherwise, that was the way she loved him. Sometimes she wondered which she loved more, the power he possessed or the way he sometimes was uncertain in wielding it. For now it didn't matter. He would learn, and she would teach him, if necessary.

They stifled their moans in each other's mouths as she took him. She was right, no one knew him better. Their minds felt merged like this, so close they could almost hear each other's thoughts. Leia caught his arms and pinned them over his head and he knew what came next.

"I could kill you right now, you know," she murmured. It was the game that sometimes didn't feel like a game at all, and that made it all the more exciting. "I'd blame it on your girlfriend there." She nodded toward the sleeping Shala.

"But you won't," Luke's breath was already ragged. "You need me too much, Leia."

"Need you? You think I couldn't get this anywhere else?" On the word 'this', she arched her hips in a way that made him see stars.

"Not with the power that comes with it." He loved her, but he wasn't naive. 

"I could convince Uncle to marry me. I've seen how he looks at me." She teased him with that whenever he stepped out of line, and she could too. The Emperor had been ogling Leia for years.

"That wouldn't make you the heir."

"But I could give him an heir, and that would make you next to useless, darling brother."

The word "useless" stung a little, made him squirm beneath her. "You wouldn't. _He_ wouldn't. He knows I'd kill him."

"You don't own me, Luke."

"Oh, I think I do." He took a handful of her hair and pulled, just the way he knew she liked, and rolled them over until he was on top.

Leia pulled him back down for another kiss. She'd let him keep thinking that. For now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Survival is not always a blessing.

When the Emperor returned later that day, they were summoned to his audience chamber. Neither of them had gotten nearly enough sleep, and Luke was still hungover but hiding it. 

Leia had dressed with care; she knew what the old man liked, and knew exactly how to flatter his ego by showing it. So she approached the chamber with her hair piled in intricate braids on top of her head, her dark eyes outlined and larger than life, lips blood red. Her beaded black dress was as minimal as modesty would allow, leaving vast amounts of her pale skin showing at her midriff and decolletage and legs. Red filmy gauze draped from her waist and swirled around her ankles, giving the illusion of a full skirt.

Luke had made an effort too, but perhaps more to impress Leia than the Emperor. She didn't care what he wore most of the time, but complimented a small handful of his outfits, like this one, the black beaded jacket that she'd once called dashing. It made it easier to tell when he was trying to get her attention. He was waiting for her so they could enter the chamber together. Seeing her, he scowled. "Aren't you cold?" he asked pointedly.

Leia took his arm and fluttered her sooty eyelashes at him. "Luke, do you want to ask him again about a post to the Death Star or not? I'm just making sure he's happy to see us."

The ongoing fight against the Rebellion was a constant source of frustration for both the twins. Their roles were limited, far too limited. Endless Imperial functions and ceremonies and parties, all recorded for broadcast to the galaxy: _See the strength of the Empire, see how its future is in good hands_.

Meanwhile, Leia could see a thousand different ways the Empire was handling the conflict with the rebels all wrong, but could get no one to take her seriously. Luke, who had attended the Imperial Academy and had as much military knowledge as any officer out there, chafed at being stuck on the sidelines. He wasn't useless, he _wasn't_ , and he'd prove it if Uncle would just let him fight for the Empire. Leia wanted that for him, although a commission for him meant they would be separated.

"All right," he conceded, but she could tell by the slight whine that he still wasn't happy. She'd have to soothe his damaged pride later.

They walked through the massive doors side by side to where their adopted uncle waited, shrouded in his black robes. Lining the chamber were generals, admirals, Moffs… there was a military discussion in the offing. Leia gave herself a moment to hope that once, just _once_ , the two of them would be called upon to be more than the pretty face of the Empire.

"Ah," Emperor Palpatine held out his hands, a smile on his reptilian face, "there you both are, just in time."

Leia closed the distance and stepped onto the dais to lean in for a kiss on the cheek, keeping still at the dry, unpleasant touch of Palpatine's lips, fully aware of the way his eyes moved down her body. She squeezed the Emperor's hand and thought of power. In a secret daydream she'd never confess to anyone, not even Luke, she fantasized about entering this very chamber in the barest scraps of clothing and raining down lightning on Palpatine's withered skull until he was a cinder.

That day would come. Her training was making her stronger by the day. One day she could take them all on, father, Emperor, brother if she had to, and burn it all to the ground. The Empire would be hers, and no one would ever underestimate her again.

"You're smiling," Palpatine said.

"I'm glad you're back," Leia replied, and stepped back so her brother could greet their uncle as well.

Luke's greeting was not nearly so fraught, a bow over the Emperor's hand executed with perfect formality borne of practice, heels together just so, body straight. 

Palpatine patted his cheek. "You've been a very wicked boy again, my child. Senator Cordeno is most displeased at the death of his son."

"His son should have been a better pilot," Luke said. _And he shouldn't have tried to ram me in the first place._

"Well. Next time, challenge someone with a slightly less well-known father, hm?" He beckoned the twins closer. "You'll be pleased to hear that your father will be returning for a short visit. There's been a small incident regarding the new space station, and he's bringing a full report."

"What's wrong with the Death Star?" Leia asked.

"Nothing, nothing at all." Palpatine spoke reassuringly. "Just some information that may have fallen into the wrong hands." He clapped his hands once. "Now. Have you been keeping up with your training since I've been gone?"

After a rigorous questioning about their particular training schedules, Palpatine ended the audience with another vague promise from the Emperor to consider Luke's request to serve on the newly-completed Death Star.

The two of them moved among the Empire's military leaders, Luke offering congratulations on recent victories, and Leia finding the right targets for her own particular charm offensive. She singled out Grand Moff Tarkin, knowing he served on the Death Star, and smiled up at him through her eyelashes until the horse-faced bastard cracked a smile in return.

"I've heard so much about the station," she breathed, taking his arm as they walked, pressing it against the side of her breast. "Is it really as powerful as they say?"

"The Death Star is the crown jewel of the Imperial arsenal." Tarkin lifted his chin in pride. "We'll soon crush the last of this feeble rebellion."

"My brother and I dearly want to see it in action." She steered him toward Luke. "There's so much we could learn from a leader like you."

"You flatter me, Your Highness. I understand that the Emperor is considering your brother's future carefully." Tarkin was no fool, as much as Leia wished he were, and was staying carefully noncommittal. 

"He is, and Uncle is wise. Wise enough to consider the counsel of such a trusted advisor as you, Grand Moff." Leia's hip "accidentally" brushed against his as they walked. Every gesture, every look became an unspoken promise and a plea. _You must help us. You are our only hope._

They reached Luke, and Tarkin bowed. "Your Highness. The princess has been telling me of your eagerness to join us on board the Death Star."

"I serve at the pleasure of the Emperor, of course," Luke replied. He and Leia exchanged a look. "But I would be a fool not to see the opportunity there."

"Perhaps the three of us can discuss this privately before you leave us, Grand Moff." Leia, still holding his arm, looked up at him with the tiniest flutter of her eyelashes. "Dinner this evening, my rooms?"

"I would be honored." Tarkin stepped right into the trap. 

They set the time, and Luke and Leia moved on. "I'm not sleeping with him," Luke said first thing.

"He's not interested in _you_ , trust me." 

"Are you sure there's not a better way?" He hated this power she had, and hated when she used it, even for his benefit. 

"Luke, if there's another way, I'll find it." She turned to him and lifted a hand to his cheek. "Believe me, I'd rather spend the evening with just you." If Tarkin fell for it, one of two things would happen: he would be so smitten with Leia that he'd do whatever she wanted, or she'd blackmail him with his indiscretions and he'd still do whatever she wanted. Either way, they won.

"I don't understand," Luke fumed as he and Leia left the audience chamber together. "Uncle insists that I'm going to follow him and lead the Empire someday, but he won't let me actually go out and _do_ anything."

"Maybe he thinks you're not ready." Leia tried to soothe him, all the while thinking _at least he's considering the possibility for you, it's more than I get_.

"But I am ready, Leia, you know I am."

He certainly wouldn't be more incompetent than some of the Imperial Navy's current crop of officers. The very ones who were letting the Rebellion gain a greater foothold in the galaxy. Did Luke have the necessary ruthlessness in him to lead? That she wasn't sure. He could be ruthless when it suited him, but she saw flashes of a tender heart he kept hidden from most other people. As much as that side of him frustrated her, it also belonged to her. It was hers to foster or stamp out.

#

Encoded intelligence flashed across a screen, but the woman seated at the console wasn't paying attention. She should, she knew, but the technical data was barely within her grasp to understand, and there were others who would be more likely to find the weakness they were looking for. She rubbed her temple to try and scrub away the headache forming there. 

The Rebel Alliance had sacrificed a great deal to obtain these readouts. If there were no weaknesses to be found, then it was all for nothing. The Empire's grip on the galaxy grew tighter every day, and rumors were that the new space station had the ability to destroy whole planets. It would make them unstoppable. She wondered if she would ever lose the sick sense of horror that sat in her belly at the thought: one stroke wiping away millions of lives. All she could do was hope that the rumors were false, or that there was some fatal weakness hidden somewhere. Whatever it took, they had to prevent the Death Star from landing its first blow. 

There must be _something_.

"Ma'am?" Another woman's voice came from behind her. "I'm sorry to interrupt. Obi-Wan Kenobi is here to see you. He has the reports you requested."

This was not a visit she was looking forward to. "Thank you, Commander Bey."

The woman, who had once been a queen, knew how to grant the sort of audience that made the visitor feel like a weak petitioner. She sat up straight, and turned to face the man who had cost her her children.

#

"Supreme Commander Soruna, it's good to see you." Obi-Wan bowed formally to the woman before the monitor, the woman without whom there would be no Rebel Alliance. There was very little of the girl-queen Obi-Wan had first known left in Supreme Commander Sola Soruna. Only a small handful of ranking Rebellion officers knew where Sola Soruna had come from, who she had been once, and understood the fervor of her hatred for the Empire.

"Master Kenobi." She spoke to him with the chilly civility of a diplomat. 

He missed the young woman who had been his friend, one of his dearest friends. But Padmé was gone, and he barely knew the woman here in her place. "I'm sorry to report that everyone aboard the _Tantive IV_ is confirmed dead or in Imperial custody."

"The Ambassador?"

"Senator Mon Mothma is in custody."

"But still alive?"

"As far as our sources report. I must recommend that we look at abandoning Yavin 4. The senator is a brave woman, but—"

"But she is unlikely to withstand the Empire's torture. I agree." She steepled her fingers together and tapped them against her lips. "We've too much invested here to leave on a possibility. We'll increase surveillance and reconnaissance in this sector—if the Empire comes looking for a fight, we'll know."

"Yes, ma'am."

"How are your students coming along?" She said it with a smile. The smile was not for him, but for the children.

"Promising," Obi-Wan said, returning the smile anyway. "If I can convince Ferus to stop trying to stamp out any spark of originality in them. But we're getting there."

Silence fell between them, and silence was always dangerous. Each time, Obi-Wan fought the urge to break the silence with the truth of what he knew. Sometimes the urge was so strong he had to bite his tongue for fear of driving a final wedge between the Jedi and the Rebellion.

She hated him enough as it was. If he told her the truth about her children, any hope of defeating the Empire would vanish. That burden was his to carry alone. And ultimately, he didn't have it in him to be that cruel to her.

He nearly sagged in relief when she dismissed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The past is never dead. It isn't even past.” - William Faulkner

Darth Vader hated Coruscant. It was a place of hidden memories and times best forgotten, and it was full of useless people who believed they owned the known universe. Being summoned here was a sign of his failure to recapture the stolen data from the _Tantive IV_. His punishment.

The “ambassador” was so far resistant to persuasion. He should have known that a senator of Mon Mothma’s reputation would be difficult to break.

The audience chamber was empty save for the Emperor and his closest guards. The twins were nowhere in sight—a small mercy, if Vader was to receive a rebuke.

“Your children should be here shortly,” the Emperor said, as if hearing Vader’s thoughts. “I thought you’d wish to see them first.”

“Thank you, Master.”

When had he seen them last? Six months? Nine? His duties to the Emperor kept him away from the Imperial Palace, and he avoided the Imperial propaganda on the HoloNet, knowing any glimpse of his children there would be a false one.

Every time he saw them, they had changed, and this time was no different. Luke stood taller than he had, but it was clear he was never going be as tall as his father. He was a handsome boy, in a pouty sort of way, and the air of arrogance that surrounded him had grown thicker. Vader had heard the stories of how that arrogance had gotten men killed.

And Leia. If Darth Vader still had a heart deep in his black armor, Leia would have broken it. Beautiful and angry and caged. She was what her mother would have been, in a similar situation. He saw the recklessness in both his children and knew that the Emperor encouraged it. Would he have done differently?

The twins bowed to the Emperor, and then to their father. There was no room for affection here, only fear. As children, he had terrified them. As they got older, that fear was tempered into cautious respect. Vader imagined, if he lived long enough, he would see his children grow to look at him with contempt, before they struck him down. He only hoped they took the Emperor down too.

“My dears,” Palpatine said, “we have a quandary. It seems that some rebel spies have obtained the technical readouts from the Death Star. Your father was unsuccessful in retrieving them. Until such time as they are recovered, you understand, Luke, I cannot possibly risk sending you there.”

“No, of course you can’t,” Luke muttered.

“The Empire needs you alive,” the Emperor cajoled. “Your desire to serve is admirable, and noted.”

“What will you do about the lost data?” Leia asked, cutting to the heart of the matter. “What can the rebels learn from it?”

“Nothing,” Vader rumbled. “The Death Star is invulnerable. That is what they will learn.”

“You see, my dears,” Palpatine addressed Luke and Leia, “that is how you turn a defeat into a victory. If you say a thing enough times, it will become true. Remember that, should the rebellion find the vulnerabilities that Lord Vader insists are not there. Now leave us. I want you to find a solution for this problem, both of you.”

Dismissed, the twins left the chamber without a second look back at their father in his disgrace. He was grateful.

#

In silent accord, the twins headed to the nearest lift and hurried to the tiny crawlspace they had discovered over the audience chamber as children. As they crouched there side by side, they could see and hear everything that happened below.

“Lord Vader, as you can see, your children have grown strong,” Palpatine was saying. “I regret, I cannot keep them here in the palace forever.” He didn’t sound regretful in the slightest, and he wore that faintly pitying smile that Leia had grown to hate. “They are too much like their father.”

“I am flattered, Master. I hope they will serve you with the same devotion that I have.”

“I know your devotion well.”

“And yet, once they leave your protection here, perhaps that alters our agreement.”

The twins could sense an undercurrent at play here, subtle meanings behind the words. What agreement? What protection?

“The children of Anakin Skywalker are mine. That agreement will stand.”

It was not a name that either Luke or Leia had heard before. They looked at one another, and Luke saw his own puzzled expression mirrored on Leia’s face.

One didn’t have to be sensitive to the Force to feel the growing tension in the room below. This was an old power struggle, one that had been going on, it seemed, right beneath the twins’ noses.

“Master, what of the reports from Yavin 4?” Darth Vader did not fidget; he was dispassionate and he waited.

“You believe the rumors, that Obi-Wan Kenobi has new students?” The Emperor laughed. “I doubt he’s even still alive.”

“He’s alive,” Vader said. “I have felt his presence. And the Force is growing stronger around him.”

“Even after so long, Lord Vader, you still seek more Jedi younglings to kill?”

If the words stung, Darth Vader showed no signs of it. “The danger is real, Master. Do not underestimate Kenobi.”

“Your faith in your old master is touching,” Palpatine mocked. “We have bigger things to worry about now than a bunch of children.”

 _Anakin Skywalker_. _Your old master, Obi-Wan Kenobi._ Their father’s old master—a Jedi! Like all children, neither of them had given much thought to their parents’ lives before they were born, but this seemed unfathomable.

“Master, I believe Obi-Wan is not alone in his work. She is with him.”

“All the more reason for you to stay away, then.” The Emperor smiled his unpleasant smile, yellow teeth against chalk white skin. “I know your weakness, Lord Vader. You think that you are ready for that confrontation, but I know that you are not.”

“Yes, Master.” His voice was toneless as ever, but a truly perceptive listener would hear the grinding undercurrent.

“Go and spend time with your children,” the Emperor commanded. “They will be training about now. I think you will be impressed at how far they’ve come.”

The twins slipped out of the crawlspace to hurry to the training ground. By the time their father found them there, they were dressed and in place, lightsabers in hand. Two red blades flared as they squared off against each other.

Darth Vader watched, not saying a word. He rarely spoke to them that Luke could remember. Some of his earliest memories were of trying to hide from the menacing figure in black who always seemed to be watching from a distance. When one of their nannies told him that was his father, Luke had cried. Leia was the one who comforted him, even then. Their father, she’d told him, was much scarier than the Emperor, and that had to be a good thing. They’d been three? Four? They hadn’t made their first public appearances yet, Luke remembered that much.

But who _was_ their father? He thought he knew, but now he wasn’t sure.

He tried to tune out his father’s presence, and pay attention to the fight at hand.

Any other time when they sparred, Leia had to goad Luke into actually taking it seriously. He held back on her, and as a result, he had more than a few scars she’d inflicted when he got lazy. Here and now, though, she was guaranteed a good fight. She’d want to show off. Well, she wasn’t the only one.

The twins circled each other, eyes locked, guards up. They’d fought and trained together for so long, they knew each other almost too well. Leia made the first attack; she always did, lunging forward. Their sabers clashed and Luke pushed her back, nearly knocking her off her feet. Of the two of them, his physical strength was his only advantage, and given enough motivation, he used it mercilessly.

But Leia was faster, and Leia could tap into the Force with greater ease. That constant stream of unending anger was always just beneath the surface, and she drew on it at will. She struck out at him again, this time with her saber in her right hand, while her left hand lashed out to knock his feet from beneath him with the Force. Luke rolled as she brought her weapon flaring down to where his head had been a moment before.

She wasn’t playing today.

He slipped to his feet behind her, but she spun and caught him before he could get in a solid attack. They traded blows, circling and testing each other. Slowly, Luke pressed the attack forward, forcing Leia back meter by inexorable meter. She shoved at him again, but he was ready. The wall of the ring was getting closer and closer now as he kept driving her back. Both of them dripped sweat as the ring reeked with the ozone of clashing lightsabers.

Finally, Luke had her pinned against the wall. Her lightsaber was trapped beneath his and she could get no leverage to get free. He couldn’t resist smiling down at her over their crossed blades, victory thrilling through him. It was a shame their father was here to watch, because when this was over, he knew exactly what he’d like to—

Everything below his waist exploded in pain as Leia brought her knee up hard. The little bit of sparring armor they wore wasn’t nearly enough to save him. He tried to stay upright, but his knees started to buckle. Leia pushed him back and he staggered and fell. She stepped forward, raising her lightsaber for the killing blow.

“Hold!” Their father’s metallic voice echoed across the ring.

The twins froze, both of them panting. For a brief instant, Leia’s eyes met Luke’s and he thought she might just strike him anyway, then she blinked and the look was gone. She powered down her weapon and he did as well, accepting the hand she offered to help him up. They turned to face their father and bowed as one.

“The Emperor has taught you well,” Vader intoned. It was, perhaps, the highest praise he had ever given them.

“Thank you, Father,” they said together.

“You are stronger than he knows.” He seemed about to say something more, then he turned and swept out, his black cape billowing behind him.

The twins exchanged a glance. “What’s going on?” Leia asked. “Did you know Father had been a Jedi?”

Luke bent over now that their father was gone, groaning with the pain he’d been suppressing. “I might be able to answer that if you hadn’t just tried to kill me.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“I always forget how dirty you fight.” He said it half-admiringly.

Leia sniffed. “I could see what you were thinking, and we can’t afford the distraction right now. Did you know?”

“Come on, what are the chances that I would know anything you don’t already know.” They each had a way of plucking thoughts out of one another’s minds, and something like this was too big to keep a secret.

“We have to figure out how to get those plans back.”

“Are you serious? We can’t do anything from here.” He kicked at the ground. “And no one’s going to let us go anywhere.”

“Let us. Are you listening to yourself?” Leia turned to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. “You are the heir to the Empire. There is _no one_ in this palace that will stand in our way.”

“Except Uncle. And maybe Father.”

Leia rolled her eyes and let him go, turning away. “Stay here if you want, but I’m leaving.”

He followed her. “Leia, wait. I don’t want to stay, you know I don’t, but where are we going to go?”

“Yavin 4, of course. You heard them. There are rebels there. If the Death Star plans are anywhere, that’s the most likely place.”

“But what about the Death Star, what about my commission?” Tarkin had fallen into Leia’s trap and was their creature to command now.

“Luke, you’re thinking too small. If we find the plans, or better yet, if we destroy this Obi-Wan and his students, the Emperor will not be able to refuse us _anything_. You won’t just serve on the Death Star. You’ll command it.” She kept walking, knowing she had him hooked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han Solo enters the picture, and explosions are imminent.

The bar was tucked away on the edge of the underworld, as far from the bright center of Coruscant as it was possible to be. The twins were heavily cloaked with hoods up. Their faces were too well-known through any part of the galaxy with access to the HoloNet. And in this part of the city, their faces were most certainly unwelcome.

Normally when they left the palace they were accompanied by a phalanx of Imperial guards—but that was for officially sanctioned outings. They’d been sneaking out on their own since they were fourteen, something that had gotten more than one head of palace security dismissed, and at least one terminated.

This was the last place anyone would expect to find a prince and princess. Grungy, dark and smoky—while they’d had their share of adventures in some of Coruscant’s seedier dives, this one was probably the worst they’d seen. Luke wrinkled his nose the moment they stepped through the entrance. There was no security scan at the door, which guaranteed everyone in here was probably armed to the teeth. Thankfully, so were the twins.

Leia’s information said this was the place where the best spacers came to drink and find work. She’d sent word to the first mate of a likely ship to get them off-planet, a smuggler with a reputation of flying fast and staying ahead of trouble.

Luke shouldered his way through the crowd, making a path for Leia to follow.

“There,” she said over the music. “That table in the corner.”

“ _That’s_ our contact?” Sitting at the shadowy table was the biggest Wookiee Luke had ever seen, and further in the shadows, a humanoid shape.

“Hard to miss, I know.”

“Are you sure about this?” Luke asked for about the tenth time.

“Uncle isn’t going to let us do anything on our own. You heard Father. Whatever deal the two of them have, it involves us sitting in the palace doing nothing.”

“No, I mean, can’t I just fly us out?”

Leia scoffed. “You don’t have the first idea how to steal a ship. We’d get caught in two minutes. Sneaking out of the palace is one thing. Racing TIE fighters is one thing. But getting off-world? We wouldn’t have a chance. We need a criminal.”

They approached the table and slid into the vacant seats. Their backs were to the door, which made Luke twitchy.

“You’re late.” The humanoid figure turned out to be a human male with brown hair and a dangerous smile.

“Will that cost extra?” Leia studied him from beneath her hood. Typical spacer: air of laziness, cheap, durable clothes, but there was something around his eyes. Something that reminded her of herself. He was definitely going to be trouble.

“Late is never a good sign. Han Solo, captain of the _Millennium Falcon_. You’ve already met Chewbacca, I hear.” His eyes flicked over their shoulders, checking to see if someone was tailing them, or possibly a waiting ambush. “And you are?”

“Not looking to attract attention,” Leia said smoothly. “We want to book passage to Yavin 4, if your ship is fast enough.”

“She’s fast. But I don’t do business with someone unless I can see their face.”

Leia edged back her hood enough to make herself visible to him and to the Wookiee. The Wookiee snarled and Solo made a move toward his blaster.

“Hands on the table,” Leia said calmly. “If you know who I am, then you know who he is,” she nodded toward Luke. “And I promise you, he’s faster than you are.”

A tense moment passed, then Han Solo put his hands on the table, exchanging a glance with his first mate. “All right. If you’re serious about hiring me and this isn’t some sort of trap, the cost just tripled.”

Luke made a disgusted noise. “This is a waste of time. We could buy our own ship for that.”

Han Solo smirked. “And who’s gonna fly it? You?”

“You’re damn right. I’m the best pilot in the Empire. If you think—”

Leia put a hand on her brother’s arm to cut him off. “Half now, half when we arrive,” she said. To Luke: “You’ll have every officer in the fleet after us. This way is better.”

“All right, you’ve got yourself a ship.” Chewbacca grumbled something and Han glared at him. “When were you planning to leave?”

“As soon as possible.” Leia didn’t need to speak Shyriiwook to know the first mate wasn’t happy.

“All right. Central terminal, docking bay 643 in two hours.”

“One hour,” Leia countered.

Solo shrugged, “It’s your trip, Princess. If you want to sit on board and wait for me to finish refueling, it’s not my problem.”

“We’ll be there,” Luke said. The twins stood, and turned to go.

“Hey,” Han Solo said, “and I don’t take anything but cash.”

“You’ll get your money. In an hour.” Leia gave him a tight smile and took her brother’s arm.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Luke started complaining. “I don’t trust him. How do you know we’re not going to wind up stranded on some Outer Rim backwater?”

“Because then he wouldn’t get the rest of his money.” They made their way through the crowd, then down to the parking levels. They’d packed light, and left their bags in the most nondescript speeder they’d been able to pull from the palace’s fleet. “I don’t trust him either, but I trust that he’s desperate for cash,” Leia said.

They got to docking bay 643 early. It was possibly the most out-of-the-way, grungy corner of the entire central terminal. Sitting in the middle of the bay was a battered, scarred Corellian freighter.

“What a piece of junk!” Luke stared at it. It didn’t even look space-worthy.

The piece of junk’s captain materialized behind them. “She may not look like much, kid, but she’s got it where it counts.”

Luke turned around, hand going to his waist. “ _What_ did you just call me?”

“Uhh, I mean, Your Highness.” To his credit, the spacer took a step back, his hands upraised. He gave Luke what was probably meant to be a charming smile. Luke wasn’t inclined to be charmed. “We’re nearly ready to go,” Solo continued in a hurry, “so if Your Worships would like to board, we can get out of here.”

Luke glared at him a moment longer, then let Leia pull him up the ship’s ramp.

#

The interior of the ship wasn’t any more promising than the exterior. The trip to the Yavin system wasn’t a long one at hyperspace speeds, but it was going to be an ordeal.

Entertainment options on-board were highly limited. There was a decrepit dejarik board. There was the _Falcon’s_ crew. There was each other. The dejarik board glitched out if you looked at it wrong and the crew was studiously staying away from the two of them. Leia was almost lethally bored. Given the cramped quarters available, eventually even the sex was going to get dull.

Luke was curled up on the other end of the bunk they’d just shared, dozing. Leia nudged him with her bare foot to wake him.

“What?” he muttered.

“What do you think of our captain?”

Luke groaned and buried his head in the thin pillow. That look in her eye didn’t bode well for anybody. “You can’t be serious. He’s a—he’s a...”

Leia waited for him to finish, and raised an eyebrow when he didn’t. “He’s not that bad.” She kept shoving him with her foot until he looked at her again. “Come on. It’d be a challenge.”

“So would the Wookiee,” he pointed out, “and I’m not going there either.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

Luke buried his face in the pillow again. “I don’t blush,” he growled.

Leia laughed at him. “I know your type. He’s got ‘your type’ written all over him.”

“Yeah, sure he’s… _interesting_ , but you’re the one who likes to go slumming, not me.” He tried to use it as an insult, but that never worked on her.

“I don’t know. A ship’s captain. I’ve done worse.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Normally she was good about not flaunting her conquests, and he was even better at ignoring them. For Leia, it was almost never about the sex; it was all about leverage. He liked to believe he was the exception. Usually.

“Remember Ryloth?” Leia crawled over from her side of the bunk to his.

Luke glanced sidelong at her trying not to smile. “Stop it.”

“The ambassador’s daughter?” Her tone was wheedling. “You were so sure she’d fall for the ‘I once saved a transport single-handled in a TIE fighter’ story—”

“It usually works!”

“Yeah, but I saw how she was looking at me. Easiest money I ever made. You never should have taken that bet.”

That finally made him laugh, and he leaned over and kissed her. “I wouldn’t say I lost anything. That was a memorable night.”

“Come on. Same stakes.”

“No!” He tried to push her away half-heartedly, and trying harder not to grin. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Okay, we’ll change it up. Instead of betting that I’ll win, I’ll bet you’re the one who makes him crack.” She was pressing up against his side, devilish smile in place.

“Leia, _stop_ , he really will strand us somewhere.” She knew by the way he was laughing, though, that he was going to give in.

#

The _Falcon_ didn’t need both the pilot and co-pilot in the cockpit while they were traveling through hyperspace, but Han and Chewbacca were in silent agreement that the cockpit was preferable to the lounge where their passengers had settled in.

After a while, swapping stories and lies started to get old. Chewie knew all of Han’s stories by now anyway, and worse, he always knew when Han was lying, and that just took all the fun out of it.

The terror twins were arguing about something back in the lounge. Han couldn’t tell what it was about, but the raised voices were enough of a clue.

Chewie muttered and growled.

“Just think of the money though,” Han responded. “We’ll be in Yavin in a few days, and we’ll be _rich_.”

The response was less than complimentary.

“Not worth it? Are you insane? We can pay off Jabba _and_ take a nice long vacation somewhere.” Although, Han was regretting only tripling the price. He was always in favor of taking the Empire for everything he could, and he probably could have asked for a hell of a lot more.

Chewie was thinking along those same lines, and said so.

“A pretty—you think I signed them on just because of a pretty face?” That was completely—okay mostly—untrue and Han was a little hurt that his old friend had such a low opinion of him.

Turned out, Chewbacca’s opinion was even lower. He hooted.

“Oh, _two_ pretty faces, yeah, thanks furball. That’s exactly the sort of trouble we need.” That would be a level of trouble to make even Han Solo think twice.

Speaking of trouble, the kid—no, the _prince_ —stuck his head into the cockpit. “The dejarik board is stuck again.”

“I’ll get it, Chewie.” Han slid out of his seat and followed Luke into the lounge. Of course they were arguing over a game. Of _course_. They were children, the pair of them.

He had to keep reminding himself of that every time he looked at them (and he was never gonna admit that to Chewie).

With Leia, Han didn’t know where to look—there didn’t seem to be anywhere _safe_ to look. She was sprawled across the bench with what seemed like whole square kilometers of pale, soft exposed skin showing around deep green shimmersilk. Luke was less naked than his sister, but whatever his simple pants and shirt were made of ( _it’s not clingsilk, it_ couldn’t _be clingsilk_ ), the drape and the cut served to accentuate the line of his shoulders, and followed each curve of his body, all the way down.

Hell, maybe this was casual attire for royalty. Maybe they were sneaking off to Yavin for some party or another, he didn’t know. The princess seemed like the type to carry something for every occasion with her, at least.

But between that and the soft, dangerous way each of them had of smiling, Han was in a perpetual state of distraction. Hence—staying in the cockpit.

Worse, they both seemed to know exactly what effect they were having. Leia waited until she saw Han was watching to shift her legs and sit up, her dress riding dangerously high along one thigh, and Han looked away only to find Luke watching him watch his sister with hooded blue eyes and expression that was equal parts possessive and amused.

Yeah, the cockpit was _much_ safer. Han crouched beneath the dejarik board, looking for the reset button, again. How the hell did these two keep breaking it? He was starting to suspect it was deliberate.

He pulled his head out from under the board to realize—too late—that he’d been flanked on both sides. The twins were standing to either side of him and he hadn’t heard them move at all.

“He looks good on his knees, don’t you think?” Leia was smiling down at him like a dire-cat scenting fresh blood.

“Doesn’t everybody?” Luke had his arms folded, one hip leaning against the (now-functional) dejarik board.

Oh hell no, this was not happening. Han Solo was not about to be out-maneuvered by a couple of spoiled royal brats. He stood up, grateful that he was at least a head taller than both of them. “Sorry, kids. You’re not paying enough to get me on my knees.” Then he turned and headed back to the cockpit. He didn’t care if they smashed the damn dejarik board to bits; he wasn’t coming back again.

#

The briefing room on Yavin 4 was more crowded than usual, as everyone with clearance was eager for news about the stolen Death Star plans. Sola Soruna stood at the front of the room, doing her best to radiate calm. The news wasn’t good, and the latest information from the HoloNet made it even worse.

She waited, gauging the level of tension in the room and looking for the perfect moment to step up and take their attention. Obi-Wan stood to the side with two of his students, his mouth set in a grim line. He knew what she was about to tell the Alliance. Whatever her personal feelings for the man, he remained the advisor she trusted the most.

The right moment arrived, and Sola took a step forward. “We’ve received the first set of data from the technical readouts.”

The last of the chatter died and all eyes turned to her. There was hope on every face, and she was the one who was going to kill it.

“The Death Star’s main weapon is a kyber crystal-powered superlaser.” Sola looked around and met every eye she could before continuing. “Our analysis confirms that it is capable of destroying an entire planet with a single blast.”

There was a collective intake of breath and murmurs started.

“What about weaknesses?” Commander Shara Bey was the first to speak up. “Something that big, there’s got to be something, right?”

“Our analysts are still going over the wealth of data we’ve received,” Sola said. “As of right now, that is the information they are focused on finding. We’re also looking for a way to track the Death Star’s movements, so we can be prepared for any attack.”

The murmuring got louder, officers looking to one another and voicing opinions, fears. Sola looked to Obi-Wan but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Given what she was about to share, she should have expected his cowardice.

“The Death Star is not our only concern.” The room quieted. “As of this morning, the Imperial HoloNet is claiming that the Emperor’s children, the Imperial twins, have been kidnapped from Coruscant. They further claim that the Alliance is responsible.”

“Are we? I mean, stealing the Empire’s favorite propaganda figures isn’t such a bad idea.” The speaker was a tall copper-skinned man. He wasn’t in uniform and he wasn’t in Jedi robes. Sola couldn’t place him immediately.

“It’s a terrible idea,” Obi-Wan corrected. “Until the twins are found safe, the Empire will be hunting for us twice as hard as before.”

“Exactly,” Sola nodded. “Those of you with underworld contacts, we’re asking that you keep your ears open for any information about the twins’ whereabouts.” She allowed herself a little smile. “If nothing else, we could use the bounty the Empire is offering for their safe return.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death isn't always a curse.

Deep in hyperspace, Han was trying his best to mind his own business. That was what had kept him alive this long, and he wasn’t about to stop now, not even for a couple of pretty Imperial troublemakers. _Especially_ not for pretty Imperial troublemakers.

He kept telling himself that right up until he heard the noises coming down the corridor. It started innocent enough; he was in the galley and heard a low, distinct feminine moan coming from one of the sets of bunks.

Okay, so he might have stepped out into the corridor proper at that. Was she alone? She had to be alone.

The moan repeated, a little louder. “Luke, yes, just like that.” She wasn’t alone.

Han Solo had been around the galaxy enough times that there wasn’t much about human sexuality that surprised him anymore, and in hindsight, _nothing_ about these two should have surprised him, but twins—that caught him off guard. If he were a smart man, he would walk away and forget all about this.

So how he wound up standing right next to the bunk’s hatch he couldn’t quite explain. The sound of Leia’s moans shivered right down his spine and into his groin. Whatever the kid was doing, he was good at it. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out what he was doing, given his silence.

Against his will (and his better judgment), Han got a visual image of the scene stuck in his head. In his mind, the Imperial princess was on her back, her legs spread wide, with her brother kneeling between them, his face buried there. Was he naked too? Probably, all coltish arms and legs with the curve of his ass up in the air.

The temptation to open the hatch to see if he was right was nearly overwhelming. It had been a while since he’d met anyone amenable in port, and his body was burning up where he stood. Leia’s sounds were getting more urgent, and Han’s heart was racing to the same rhythm. This was the sort of thing that got men like him killed. It sure as hell wasn’t something the Emperor would want getting out about his precious heirs.

_Walk away. Walk away_ right now _, you idiot_.

But the princess was too far gone, and so was he. He had to hear how she sounded at the end. It took a level of self-control Han didn’t know he even possessed to keep his hands out of his pants, although by the time Leia was screaming her brother’s name it was a near thing. Once she quieted, Han heard Luke laugh breathlessly.

“If they didn’t know before, they know now,” Luke said, “thanks.”

“I don’t care. Come here.” The sound of a wet kiss. If Han were to kiss either of them right now, would they taste like the princess?

That thought was the final straw. He fled the corridor for the privacy of his own bunk. With images of Luke and Leia’s bodies twined together on constant replay in his head, Han made himself come (over far too fast) with only the tiniest hint of shame.

He was fine; it was fine. Maybe his face got a little red when he came out to find them sitting in the lounge playing dejarik again like nothing had happened.

He was fine, right up until he passed Luke in the tiny corridor where he’d stood eavesdropping.

The prince turned sideways to let him pass by, a little smirk on his face. The temptation was too overwhelming. Before he could think, Han leaned in, pressing his forearm across Luke’s chest and shoving him against the bulkhead. Luke started to tense to fight back, but by then, Han’s mouth was on his, deep and searching. Luke stopped fighting, hand curling into a fist in Han’s sleeve. And yes, it might have been Han’s imagination, but Luke’s mouth still tasted like his sister.

Finally Luke pushed him away, his blue eyes burning bright, not—Han was pleasantly surprised to realize—with homicidal anger. The kid just smiled. “I owe Leia ten credits. I thought she’d be first.”

While Han was too startled to respond, Luke shrugged off his hands and kissed him lightly before ducking out of the corridor.

After that, Han wished that the _Falcon’s_ cockpit door had a lock.

#

_“We have the latest on the Imperial kidnapping. According to a spokeswoman for the Emperor, a list of ships that may have secreted Their Highnesses Luke and Leia Palpatine off Coruscant has been sent to every corner of the Empire...”_

The holocaster spoke, her words overlaying recordings of the twins’ last appearance at some ball or another. Sola should have turned it off, but she watched, unable to look away from the two young people.

_How can anyone believe they’re even_ twins _? They don’t look anything like Anakin. Or me. Palpatine was a fool to think he could draw me out this way. I’d_ know _my own children_.

The woman who had once been Padmé Amidala wasn’t fooled. She’d seen exactly how her children had died. She had proof.

#

Darth Vader stalked off the shuttle and onto the deck of the Death Star. The admiral was waiting for him with an update, and the news wasn’t good. No sign of Luke or Leia, although they’d managed to cross-reference the last time they were seen on Coruscant with the departure of a small handful of private ships. As of this moment, all Imperial personnel were on the lookout for those ships.

It was the Emperor’s idea to put the blame on the rebels. Sympathy for the rebel terrorists was on the rise, and the threat of any harm coming to the Empire’s beloved children would dampen that.

Vader knew too well how Palpatine’s mind worked. If one of Palpatine’s bounty hunters found them first, Luke and Leia might well end up dead, so that the paroxysm of galactic grief that followed could help crush the last of the rebellion’s supporters.

Damn them both. Vader should have known they’d pull a stunt like this from the moment Palpatine told them to find a solution for the missing plans. They were reckless and ambitious and the Emperor was keeping them under too tight a grip. Had he foreseen this? Had he _planned_ for it?

These were _his children_. Not Palpatine’s. He’d lost his soul almost from the first moment he’d learned they were coming into the world, and he’d be damned again before he’d lose them.

Palpatine and his devil’s bargain: “Let me raise them as my own and they will rule the galaxy when you and I are gone.” All Vader had to do was not interfere, and Palpatine swore to keep the children safe and, eventually, out of the war that was sure to come.

He’d been a fool. A young, heartsick, stupid fool. When word had reached him that Padme had died in childbirth with their children, despite everything Anakin Skywalker had done stop it, the galaxy had ceased to have meaning. All the betrayal and death and agony, all for nothing. Darth Vader was left with nothing but the endless thirst for power and revenge. Then Palpatine, foul spider that he was, presented Vader with twin infants.

They’d been so tiny he’d been afraid to touch them, much less hold them. Indistinguishable bits of humanity, they could have been anyone’s children, except that he knew them. He couldn’t deny their identity. Even as infants, he could feel their presence in the Force and knew it was no trick.

The Emperor had kept his word. Luke and Leia had been safe.

Until now. All bargains were off until his children were safe on Coruscant again.

And this time, he was going to do everything he could to make sure their mother—still very much alive, another lie from Palpatine—was with them.

#

_19 years earlier_

Exhausted and still healing from childbirth, Padmé Amidala clutched her babies in her arms as Obi-Wan Kenobi led them through another anonymous spaceport on another backwater planet.

They’d had six weeks of peace this time. Six whole weeks for her to spend time learning how to be a mother, to try and come to terms with the knowledge that the man she’d married was gone forever, replaced by a yellow-eyed monster who slaughtered children.

And then the first stormtroopers had found them. They’d barely escaped with their lives and a satchel full of belongings.

This was her life now, running from place to place and trying to stay alive and free.

Once they were settled on the ship, Obi-Wan stowed their belongings and reached out to take one of the babies from her. She handed him Luke; Leia was already a squirmy, difficult infant, where Luke could sleep through anything.

“Padmé,” Obi-Wan spoke quietly, leaning toward her so as not to be overheard. “We can’t keep going on like this. You need to consider my suggestion.”

“I will not give up my children,” she whispered fiercely, clutching Leia to her tightly enough that the baby squirmed.

“Not forever,” Obi-Wan said. “They’ll be safe, raised by good families. You know Bail and Breha, and you’ve met Owen and Beru. They will love Luke and Leia until it’s safe for you to reunite.”

“And when will that be?”

He sighed. “The twins are so strong in the Force, Padmé. The two of them together, and with you—you may as well have a spotlight shining on the three of you. As long as you’re together, he will _always_ find you. And the day may come when we don’t get out in time.”

“I can’t,” she said. “How can I let them go, knowing I’m not there to protect them?”

“You can’t protect them now.” Obi-Wan had a way of speaking harsh truths in a soft voice. “He thinks you’re dead, that I alone have the children. How long before the truth gets back to him? How much more desperate do you think he will become?” He paused, then delivered the _coup de grâce_. “The Emperor wants the twins, but _he_ wants you.” They never spoke his name, not the name he was born with or the name he’d taken on. For both of them, he was now as nameless as he was faceless.

Padmé shuddered, still feeling the cold grip on her throat, the stranger’s face on the man she’d loved. And now it would be even worse. The last remnants of that man had been literally burned away on Mustafar.

She looked down at her daughter’s face, so still and sweet in sleep. Obi-Wan’s plan meant she would miss so many crucial events in the twins’ lives, so many ways she would never be there for them. But it also meant that they would _have_ lives, beyond whatever twisted existence the Emperor wanted for them—if he even let them live.

The sacrifice should be hers, not theirs. She was the one who ignored the dangerous signs of her husband’s downfall, blinded by her own fear, by her own ambitions, by the war. Luke and Leia deserved safe and stable homes, and “safe and stable” wasn’t something she could provide right now.

She took a steadying breath. “All right. Tell me again about the plan.”

At their next destination, one of Padmé’s former handmaidens would meet them. Yané would take the children and under the protection of Admiral Yularen, go first to Tatooine and then to Alderaan. Obi-Wan reassured Padmé that Yularen was the best choice for the job, devoted to the cause and deadly to the Republic’s enemies. Obi-Wan would follow to Tatooine and Padmé would go to Alderaan, each monitoring the children at a safe distance.

Saying goodbye to Luke was one of the hardest things Padmé had ever done. Who knew when she would see her little boy again? Whatever information and holos that Obi-Wan could manage to send her, she would still watch him grow only from a distance. At least on Alderaan she might see Leia on occasion.

She kissed Luke’s forehead and tried to will her eyes dry. “All right. I’m ready,” she said. Obi-Wan took her arm and led her away. She didn’t look back. For years after, she would wish that she had.

The news was waiting for her when she arrived on Alderaan, a private encoded message from Obi-Wan. Admiral Yularen’s ship, the _Resolute_ , never made it to Tatooine. One of the new Imperial star destroyers had blown it from the sky as it entered the system. No escape pods made it clear of the wreckage. All hands and passengers lost.

Many mourned the loss of Admiral Yularen; no one knew about the loss of Yané, Luke, and Leia.

For months, Padmé lived in denial. She insisted that Obi-Wan provide proof. Holos of the _Resolute’s_ destruction. Telemetry readings. Eyewitness accounts. She watched her children die from every conceivable angle looking for something, _anything_ that might indicate they had escaped. Finally she could deny it no longer. Her babies, her precious twins, were gone.

She threw herself into caring for and nurturing a different child, the infant Rebel Alliance.

Five years later, the Emperor presented his heir to the Empire, his son. The HoloNet was filled with images of the chubby-cheeked little blond boy in his crisp Imperial uniform, standing half-hidden behind a nanny, and his bolder twin sister, who smiled and waved at the crowd, instantly charming everyone. No one knew who their mother was, and no one asked. The Empire celebrated those first public appearances of Luke and Leia.

Horror-stricken, Padmé returned to the proof that Obi-Wan had given her. Again and again, angle after angle of destruction until the images were seared in her memory and she could recreate them perfectly in her mind. Her children were dead. They were dead. She watched them die over and over again because it was better than the alternative, that they were alive and worse than lost to her. The Emperor was taunting her and Obi-Wan by producing these new twins, even naming them after Padmé’s children.

The proof of destruction that had once been such a source of pain to her now became her only solace. Her children were dead. No matter how twisted and evil the black-robed figure at the Emperor’s side had become, he could never have done this to his own children. Never.

The children of Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker were dead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can resist anything except temptation.” — Oscar Wilde

Han failed to take into consideration that there was no food in the cockpit. He also failed to take his Wookiee co-pilot into consideration, who started calling him a coward the minute he sat down.

Going to the galley was sheer hell now. He couldn’t help glancing down at the princess’s bunk—well, he supposed it was _their_ bunk, not just hers. Han hurriedly pulled some rations together and turned back toward the corridor.

There was a princess in his way. She leaned in the doorway, watching him.

“Your Worship,” he muttered, wondering if he should push past.

“Captain Solo, do you know what the penalty is for laying hands on a member of the Imperial Court?” Leia looked up at him and smiled sweetly.

Damn it. _Just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, could you, you idiot_. “Uh… no, but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

Her smile faded, and he was suddenly acutely aware of the lightsaber hanging from her waist. “You assaulted my brother, Captain.”

“Hey, in my defense, he didn’t precisely seem to mind.” _Oh great,_ that’s _gonna help._

“If he had minded, you’d be dead.” She took a step forward, and it was ridiculous: she didn’t even come up to his shoulder, but he fought the urge to take a step back anyway. “You didn’t ask if _I_ minded.”

“I don’t normally ask the sister’s permission—”

His words cut off with a grunt as she extended a hand and he flew back into the cabinets. He couldn’t move, pinned there by her extended hand, even though she was a good two meters away.

“You should have,” she said. 

“I’m sorry,” Han stuttered. 

“You’ll have to make it up to me.” Leia lowered her hand and the force holding him back dropped, nearly sending him to the ground.

“...how?” He straightened his jacket, trying to regain some dignity, but her next words stripped it away entirely.

“Let me watch the two of you. Together.” She beckoned back over her shoulder and Luke appeared—he’d been there the whole time.

Han opened his mouth to say something but for once he didn’t have a comeback. 

“Well?” Leia asked. Luke rested his chin on her shoulder, his arms going around her waist, and now there were two sets of eyes—one dark, one light—watching him expectantly.

Normally, Han would have said he made some of his best decisions on the spur of the moment. This might not be one of them. _Think of the stories you’ll be able to tell, if you can get anyone to believe you_.

And if he survived.

“Well… I don’t want to insult the royal family…” 

It was enough of an answer. Leia took his hand and pulled him toward the bunk he’d been standing outside of not so long ago.

The _Falcon’s_ bunks were tiny even for one person, much less three. Leia climbed onto the bottom bunk and settled back against the wall. She looked much too pleased with herself. 

There was barely room for him and Luke to stand, even as close as they were. It should have been awkward as hell, but in close quarters, the very energy Han had been trying to avoid for the entire trip intensified, and he could barely breathe for it. What the hell. He’d kissed the kid once already; he could do it again.

Planning to do it was a little different though, especially when the kid in question was looking up at him with shining blue eyes and a hint of a smirk, like he was issuing a challenge.

Well, _fine_. The temptation to grab Luke and kiss him hard was obvious, and Han decided he wasn’t going to go for obvious. Despite the fact that his heart was racing and he was already half-hard, Han rested his hand along Luke’s jawline, tilting his chin up so Han could lean down and just barely press his mouth to Luke’s, a tease.

He didn’t get to tease for long. As soon as he tried to pull away, Luke pulled him back, one hand pulling Han by the shirt while the other wrapped around the back of Han’s neck. The second kiss wasn’t a tease; it was a small inferno. Han found himself pushed back against the hatch, pinned there by Luke’s body. He was strong for a little guy. Han liked that more than he expected to.

Luke hauled him over to the bunk, still kissing Han like he was going to devour him whole. His mouth was every bit as sweet as it looked, and Han couldn’t resist nipping at Luke’s lower lip as he ducked to avoid hitting his head on the upper berth. The resulting whimper was encouragement enough to do it again, and they tumbled to the narrow bunk. They were practically in Leia’s lap, but hey, she said she wanted to watch.

Han got distracted from the princess for just a second because the prince was trying to pull Han’s shirt off. “Hang on,” he muttered, and pulled out from under the bunk to haul his shirt over his head and drop it to the floor.

This would have been easier if there wasn’t an audience, or if, at the very least, he could forget she was there. Her presence was like a hand against his skin and all he could think of was that this was her twin brother he had pinned to the bunk, her twin brother that he was undressing between kisses. And that, of course, led to thoughts of what he’d overheard. He groaned, burying his burning face in the crook of Luke’s neck. 

His reaction didn’t go unnoticed, and Leia laughed softly. “I _thought_ I heard footsteps out there before,” she said.

Han’s head jerked up. “What, I didn’t say anything.”

“Careful what you think around her.” Luke’s voice was blurred and soft. “Even I caught that one.” He wriggled beneath Han, reaching up to redirect Han’s attention back to him. “So that’s why you kissed me the first time.”

“Only partly,” Han admitted, because how could you lie to someone who could get inside your head? 

Luke pulled him down and bit his earlobe before murmuring, “If you’re very lucky, maybe I’ll let you taste her for real.”

“I heard that. You don’t get to ‘let’ anyone do anything to me.” 

Luke grinned up at him. “She wants you too, you know.” 

Han couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a performance for his benefit. “She gets whatever she wants, does she?” There was too much bare skin to focus on now, narrow hips and strong thighs that drew his hands like magnets. 

“Always.” The word was a gasp as their bodies slid together. Two pairs of eyes were burning into Han’s skin like lasers. The intensity was too much. Well, he had a solution for that. He kissed Luke hard, then murmured against his mouth, “Turn over.”

For Imperial royalty, he was awfully fast to get on his knees. Han ran his hand down Luke’s flank, following the curves he’d been eyeing ever since they’d come on board. As his hands got bolder, he watched as Luke and Leia’s eyes met and held. 

As Han let his fingers ease slowly into Luke, the kid’s body slumped a little, his head lowering. He was already soft and slick, as if he’d—Han looked at Leia, who was smirking at him. Oh _hell_. How much of this did they already have planned out?

The thought should have terrified him, but that message didn’t make it to his cock, which surged with renewed interest. Han draped himself over Luke’s back, skin against skin, and bit the back of his neck. He was rewarded with a full-body shudder and a broken little moan that gave him goosebumps. It was easy, so easy to press his hips forward and inch his way into Luke. Luke’s head snapped up with a gasp and Han stilled.

“No, don’t stop.”

Leia’s eyes focused on Luke’s face, and as Han slowly pressed all the way in, she leaned forward and kissed her brother. Han had to stop moving. It was one thing to see that in his mind’s eye, another thing entirely to see it in the flesh. They kissed with the practiced motions of long-time lovers. It was almost tender—no, no almost, it was. They kissed and he saw flashes of teeth and tongue, heard them both gasping against each other’s mouths. He almost felt extraneous, until it happened.

Warmth flooded into Han’s mind, as if someone had opened a window and let sunlight stream in. He tried to start a slow, steady rhythm with his hips, but somehow he was there, between them in that kiss, feeling what they each felt. He felt/saw Leia take Luke’s hand, leaving him balanced precariously on one arm as she scooted close enough to slide Luke’s hand up under the hem of her skirt. They both moaned, maybe all three of them moaned, he couldn’t tell the difference.

Han was everywhere. He was buried deep inside Luke, he was Luke’s hand, already wet and warm between Leia’s thighs, he was even there, feeling something he should have no ability to feel. Nothing he had ever experienced prepared him for this. He knew the rumors about the twins’ abilities, but nothing he’d heard about any sort of Force involved _this_.

He wasn’t seeing their thoughts, not exactly. He could _feel_ them. Touching the princess with a hand that wasn’t his, knowing just how to curl his fingers inside her to make her gasp. Feeling the sweet intrusion of fingers and cock into his own body, suddenly sure exactly where to move and how fast, to make the prince cry out. The extended awareness made it no fumbling first time between strangers. Han even made a few contributions of his own, guiding those/his warm, wet fingers into a slow twisting motion that made Leia moan louder.

Han lost all sense of time and self. He came, Leia came, Luke came, or maybe it wasn’t even in that order at all, maybe it wasn’t so distinct. Reality drifted back in to find him sprawled on the bunk face down, the twins on either side of him. His head was spinning like he’d just come off a three-day bender.

Leia was laughing at something, and somewhere along the way she’d undressed too, her naked body warm against Han’s one side, while Luke draped over the other. “I think we need to keep him,” she was saying. “We haven’t shared a toy in so long.”

He should probably protest that; Han Solo was nobody’s _toy_. But he was warm and comfortable and someone’s hand was running up and down his back and soon he was asleep.

#

“Master, do we really have to leave?” The young padawan looked up at Obi-Wan with sad eyes. “We know there’s a fight coming, most of us want to stay.” The girl was already formidable; given a few more years she’d be one of their strongest.

Obi-Wan squeezed her shoulder. “Someone has to travel with the younglings, Jora. We need the youngest of the padawans to look after them.” He smiled down at her. “There will be plenty of work to do when you’re older, I promise.”

“But I don’t understand why we have to leave. There’s been no direct threat.”

There had been a time once, when padawans were discouraged from too much questioning. And perhaps, if someone other than Obi-Wan had taken up the job of training new Jedi, that would still be true. But Obi-Wan’s master had been Qui-Gon Jinn, and Obi-Wan never quite got the hang of stern and stoic detachment.

“Enough of a threat,” he said. “And we need to keep all of you safe at any cost.”

“Yes, master,” she said, dejected and dissatisfied with his answer, but accepting it.

He couldn’t tell her what he knew, that Mon Mothma was going to be executed by the Imperials, that they had no way of knowing what Alliance secrets she had been forced to spill before her death. That the evacuation of the Jedi Academy was likely only the first wave of several. Jora was young and didn’t need that burden, not yet.

There were things he couldn’t share with anyone. The identity of the Imperial twins was just one small piece of the board. There were dreams he had, visions he’d seen… the Jedi children needed to flee Yavin. He alone knew the danger they were in. He had seen the confrontation that was to come, but not its outcome. The children of Anakin Skywalker were coming to Yavin, and when they did, everything Obi-Wan had worked to build might be destroyed.

#

Chewbacca started yelling at Han the minute he made it back to the cockpit.

“I took a nap, all right?” Han protested, but he should have known better. Chewie’s sense of smell was too keen and there wasn’t enough water or sonics on board the _Falcon_ to erase the mark Luke and Leia had left on him.

Chewie snorted in derision. 

“No, I did. I slept. I was literally asleep.” Part of the time, anyway.

Han didn’t think Chewie’s opinion of his judgment could get much worse. He was wrong. Chewie growled and grumbled for a good half a minute straight, shaking a furry fist at Han.

“It’s not like I _planned_ it,” Han protested. “They ambushed me!”

Another two minutes, this time about the utter stupidity of sleeping with a single client, much less two, much less two that were children from the same _mother_ —not to even _mention_ that they were the Emperor’s children, had Han somehow forgotten that he and Chewbacca were wanted by the Empire for their crimes? How was it _possible_ that human beings could be so remarkably idiotic and still manage space flight? Further, how was Chewbacca so unlucky as to have incurred a life-debt from such an absolute—even Han couldn’t translate exactly what Chewbacca was calling him, but he had a pretty good idea it wasn’t complimentary.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry, buddy. It was stupid of me.” And that was the absolute truth. Sure, it had been the best sex of his entire _life_ , but it was also probably going to get him and Chewie killed.

And he was already wondering if there was time for more before they got to Yavin.

Well of course, they broke the dejarik board again, so Han had to go back to the lounge. His palms were a little sweaty with anticipation. What might they do this time? 

He reset the board as before and stood up in time to hear Leia gasp sharply, her dark eyes wide and shocked. Luke also looked stunned, as if he’d taken a blow to the head.

“You two okay?” Han asked.

Luke and Leia reached for one another’s hands without looking and the hair on the back of Han’s neck stood up. 

“What _was_ that?” Leia’s voice was hushed and she finally blinked and turned to Luke. He shook his head. “You felt it though, right?” she pressed.

“Yeah. It was—”

“—the Force,” Leia finished.

Han’s skin was trying to crawl right off of him. Normally he had little time or patience for anyone spouting gibberish about a mystical energy field, but he still had no other explanation for what had happened in the bunk with them, and _something_ had just happened here. He didn’t think they were faking it.

“It was like a scream—”

“—a lot of screams—”

“—all at once. What _happened_?”

Seeing them like this was like seeing them with their masks off for real, and in Han’s limited experience, royalty didn’t like people seeing them that way.

“They did it.” Leia’s wide eyes were unreadable. “They used it.”

“Where?”

Leia shook her head. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

Han had no idea what they were talking about and he didn’t want to know what they were talking about. “Listen, if you two need—”

“Stay.” It was the kid, and Han finally paid attention to how pale and shaken he looked. “Please.”

If he had to guess, Han would’ve said that “please” was not a word either of these two used that often. He slid into a seat next to the princess. 

“How—um, how much farther to Yavin?” Luke spoke, pulling the shreds of his composure back together. 

“Should be two more days. We’ll stop at Chandrila first, to pick up some supplies, but then it’s just a short jump to Yavin.”

“You been there before? Leia says it’s warmer than Coruscant. Right, Leia?” He spoke to her with a gentleness that Han wouldn’t have thought either of them possessed, trying to bring her back to the here and now from whatever weird mystical place they’d both gone.

“Y-Yeah,” Leia blinked, became more present. The Falcon’s engines whined and shifted down. “What’s that?” 

“Easy. We’re just coming out of hyperspace. Chandrila, like I said.”

“So, Yavin,” Luke pressed.

Han exchanged a look with him, then shrugged. “It’s the rainy season on Yavin 4 now, so it’s about like summer on Coruscant, but a hell of a lot wetter.” There was more to both of them than Han had first thought. And that made them even more dangerous.

“What about—” Whatever Luke was going to say was lost when the _Falcon_ gave a great, shuddering jerk to one side, nearly throwing all three of them to the floor.

“What the hell?” Han was on his feet first, and ran for the cockpit, Luke and Leia following close behind.

Chewie was wrestling with the controls, snarling.

“A tractor beam, from _where_?” Out in front of the _Falcon_ something looked all wrong. “Where’s Chandrila?”

“It’s gone.” Luke and Leia spoke at once.

“What do you mean, _gone_ , a planet doesn’t just disappear—”

The _Falcon_ was groaning and squealing from the competing forces of her engines and the tractor beam. 

“Wait.” Han spotted something on his scanners and looked twice. Chandrila had two moons, that he knew of. So why was there a third?

“Do you sense him?” Leia murmured to Luke, and he nodded, his eyes wide and solemn.

“I’ve got to shut her down. We’re getting hauled in toward that moon there.” Han shut down the repulsors.

“That’s no moon,” Leia said. “It’s a space station.” 

“What? That’s impossible—” The Death Star grew closer, and it was obviously something manmade. Han Solo swore in a handful of languages.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who's the more foolish? The fool, or the fool who follows him?” - Obi-Wan Kenobi, in a different galaxy far, far away

“But why does it have to be _you_?” Kes Dameron paced the small bedroom quarters he shared with his wife—his _wife_ , nearly a year and he still wasn’t used to saying that.

Shara Bey sat on the bed, brushing out her hair after having it pulled up all day. “Green Squadron is the best we’ve got.” She said it simply, without any false modesty, one of the many things Kes loved about her. 

“But we still don’t even know if any of our weapons will do any good against that thing!” 

“Relax, come sit down.” Shara patted the edge of the bed. “We’ll find a weakness. If we don’t, then I’ll still have to fly escort duty for the evacuation.”

Kes stopped pacing and sat down, leaning back against her. “Remind me why I ever wanted to fall in love with a pilot?”

She laughed and kissed him soundly. “How big of a reminder do you need?”

“Mm, depends. When are you back on duty?”

“Not until 0500. What about you?”

Kes closed his eyes. “Pathfinders are on alert. Any sign of an Imperial landing and we’ll muster.”

“So plenty of time for now. “ Shara Bey pulled her husband to bed and neither of them thought about the massive space station likely heading their way. 

#

Han expected the royalty to complain about getting shoved into the _Falcon’s_ hidden compartments. He didn’t expect both of them to try and grope him while they were down there. A squad of stormtroopers overhead, and he was dealing with two frisky sets of hands trying to get them all killed. 

He didn’t dare to even breathe, listening to the boots clattering on the decks overhead. The hyperspace log was clear, and he’d set the ship’s log to indicate a crew evacuation. All they could do now was wait.

The damned Imperials were tearing his baby apart from the sound of it. He heard a little snarl from Chewie in the other compartment as some tools crashed to the floor. _Easy, buddy, just hang on a few more minutes…_

Finally they stopped trashing Han’s ship and disembarked. Poking his head out of the hidden compartment, he heard the deck officer outside ordering for a scanning crew.

“We gotta get off the ship.” Han hoisted himself onto the deck. Before he could offer Leia or Luke a hand, they were sitting next to him. 

“Where exactly do you suggest we go?” Leia asked, climbing to her feet.

“I don’t know, but a scanning crew is gonna find any life form on here bigger than a bug.”

“I have an idea,” Luke said.

They waited for the two-person scanning crew. A couple of blaster shots, and they had themselves two sets of stormtrooper armor. There was just one problem.

“This is never going to work.” Leia was dwarfed by the stormtrooper breastplate. Luke wasn’t faring much better. “Both of us are too damned short to fit into this armor.”

Han had a hand clamped over his mouth to hide a grin. 

“It’s the only option,” Luke said. “You think there’s anybody on this station that wouldn’t know us on sight? Come on, there’s got to be a way to adjust these things.”

There was, minimally. Anyone who looked close would spot that one of the two stormtroopers was at least six inches too short, but it was probably enough to get them across the station. 

“We’ve got to disable the tractor beam,” Leia said, her voice metallic and muffled. 

“How are we going to get these two anywhere without getting spotted?” Luke indicated Han and Chewie. “Sooner or later they’re going to check the ship again.”

Leia produced a pair of binders from her uniform. “Prisoners.”

“Wait a minute,” Han said, and Chewie snarled in agreement. It was one thing to have sex with an Imperial. It was something else entirely to let them chain you up and cart you across a space station.

“You have a better idea?” Leia snapped.

“Gimme a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute.” She dangled the binders from one finger, her other hand on her hip. “If you’ve got another plan, now’s the time to spill it, flyboy.”

He didn’t, and he knew when he was beaten. Han sighed and extended his arms, wrists together. He glanced up at Chewie, who did the same, grumbling beneath his breath. Han caught something to the effect of stupid humans willing to die for a chance to mate.

The four of them marched through the corridors, and Chewbacca was the only one who merited a second glance. 

“You sure you know where the tractor beam controls are?” Han hissed over his shoulder at Luke.

“Trust me. I’ve got the schematics of this place memorized.” The Death Star was going to be his someday, and he knew every centimeter. Luke had to stop himself from looking around, taking in the details. Gawping would get them pegged as intruders almost faster than anything. Stormtroopers didn’t study the scenery.

They almost made it out of the public areas, when a squadron leader stopped them in one of the narrower corridors. “Where are you taking these two?”

“Detention Block AA-23, sir,” Luke said. 

“Who are they?”

“No identification yet, sir. They came in on a ship we intercepted.”

“You idiots. Lord Vader wants anyone found on board that ship brought before him directly. I want you to turn around, and head right back to—”

“Look out!” Leia shouted.

Chewbacca growled and swung his arms free, grabbing the squadron leader and flinging him against a wall. 

Leia held his open binders in her hand. “It was a stupid conversation anyway.”

“Great,” Han muttered. 

Chewie looked down at him as if to say, “Now you know I feel.”

They moved on down the corridor.

#

As soon as he saw the ship on the scanners, Darth Vader knew his children were aboard. Had the ship come out of hyperspace a few moments sooner, they would have witnessed the destruction of Chandrila. As it was, he felt their confusion and fear. He could have warned them. Massacres were never easy. Each death created its own disturbance in the Force, and so many, so close together, amplified the ripples one on top of another. 

He wished they had been farther away. 

“My lord.” A lieutenant approached him cautiously. “The ship is registered as the _Sunfighter Franchise_ out of Tatooine, but we’ve found no lifeforms on board. The captain’s log says they jettisoned due to a poisonous exhaust leak.”

“They were on board. I want them found and I want them brought to me.”

_Where are you, and more importantly, where were you going?_

#

The Rebel base on Yavin was in an uproar. Rumors were flying everywhere about the Empire’s latest atrocity. The HoloNet was suspiciously silent, and they had only rebel transmissions to rely on. 

Sola Soruna and Obi-Wan Kenobi sat looking at a hologram of a middle-aged man with dark skin and salt-and-pepper hair. “Do you have confirmation though?” Sola asked, leaning forward. “Is Chandrila gone, Bail?”

“It is. I’ve spoken to a freighter pilot who saw the rubble left behind. There’s nothing but an asteroid field left where Chandrila was.” The man in the hologram cursed softly. “It could have been us. The Empire has been keeping a close watch on Alderaan for too long now.”

“Senator Organa,” Obi-Wan spoke up. “We have word—”

“Not Senator, not anymore.” Bail Organa’s mouth was a thin, angry line. “Just before we received the news about Chandrila, word came down that the Emperor has dissolved the Senate. For good.”

“What?” Sola stood up, every inch the senator she once was, the queen she once was. “He can’t do that! Galactic law says—”

“As far as Palpatine is concerned, he is galactic law now,” Bail said. 

“But this will make more systems rise up against him, he must know that.”

“I don’t think it’s an accident that he demonstrated the Death Star’s power the same day he dissolved the Senate.” Kenobi finally spoke up, reaching a hand toward her, which she shrugged away.

“Of course,” she said bitterly. “Everyone will live in fear of becoming the next example.”

“We must step up our evacuation plan.” Obi-Wan watched her start to pace. “The Empire will surely know we’re here.”

“Our people have almost found the weakness,” Sola insisted. “We can’t leave now, not when we’re so close to finding a way to destroy that thing.”

“But if they know where we are—” 

“He will not make me flee another home!” They still never used his name, but Obi-Wan knew who she meant.

“Padmé—”

She whirled on him. “ _Do not._ That woman is dead. As dead as her children.” She took a breath and composed herself. “We stay on Yavin until the threat is confirmed.”

#

The four of them were close to the tractor beam module when an alarm sounded throughout the station.

“Uh-oh,” Han said. “Sounds like our buddy woke up.”

“He’ll have friends.” Leia unshouldered her rifle and held it ready, while Luke did the same.

“Boy, it’d sure be great if I was armed too,” Han muttered. Chewie agreed.

“Hang on.” Luke grinned over at him. “We’ll have one for you in a minute.” He and Leia both sounded more excited than scared. He realized—they were _having fun_. Han was stuck on an Imperial space station with two adrenaline junkies.

“This way.” Leia led them out of the corridor and across a platform. They ducked into a smaller corridor and found themselves face to face with a squad of stormtroopers.

The troopers started firing, but Luke and Leia had one major advantage: the troopers’ weapons were set for stun. Theirs were not. 

Half a dozen stormtroopers went down, and the rest started to fall back. Leia bent over one of the fallen Imperials and snagged his rifle, tossing it at Han. “Change the setting. We’re not looking to stun anybody.”

“I know how to use a blaster rifle, thanks.” 

Leia tossed a second one to Chewbacca, and the four of them continued on. 

“Wait.” Luke held up his hand, his brow furrowed. “Damn. You took us the wrong way, Leia. We have to go back.”

“I thought you two knew where we were going.” Han felt a little better with a rifle in his hands. Only a little.

“ _I_ do, Leia doesn’t. Come on.” Luke took the lead. 

...right into another squadron. 

At least this time all four of them were armed. It wasn’t enough. Word had spread quickly as to their location, and before long, both the way forward and the way back were cut off.

Staying pressed against the wall wasn’t going to provide them cover for much longer, as the stormtroopers got closer.

Leia had the solution. She yanked off her helmet, aimed her blaster at the grate near the floor, and fired. “Tell me I don’t know my way around a space station,” she muttered. “Get in!”

“That’s the garbage chute—” Luke protested.

“Yes it is. _Get in!_ “ Leia shoved him toward the still smoking hole in the grate.

One by one, they went through with Leia covering them, picking off stormtroopers until she was the last to dive in. 

The air was thick and damp, reeking of every sort of trash a space station this size could produce, from rotting food scraps to burnt-out machinery. The sludge came up past the humans’ knees, and swirled unpleasantly. 

“I can see why you two are in charge,” Han sniped. “This was a brilliant plan. Now what?”

Luke pulled off his helmet, grimacing at the smell. “Ask her, this was her idea.”

“Do I have to do everything around—” her words cut off with a yelp. “There’s something in here.” She pointed her rifle at the floor, turning to try and track something she couldn’t see through the muck. 

“Oh no,” Luke said. “It’s probably—”

Leia vanished beneath the muck with a cut-off scream.

#

Darth Vader strode across the deck toward a silver-haired admiral. “Well, Admiral Yularen? Have your men found them?”

“Yes, Lord Vader. They are trapped on the detention level.” But Admiral Yularen’s mouth was set in a thinner line than usual. There was something else, something he wasn’t saying.

“Your men have their weapons set to stun, as ordered?”

“Yes, my lord.” 

“Then what is it?” Out of all the Imperial admirals, Vader had the least patience for Admiral Yularen, traitor to one cause and slave to another. Yularen had been a good man once, and now he was a whining, servile creature. 

“We’ve had no word from them in a few minutes.”

His children were not trapped, then. Vader turned away, his cape flaring. He would go to the detention level and find them himself.

#

The surface of the muck was still and calm where Leia had vanished. 

“Leia!” Han barely grabbed Luke in time before he dove in after her.

“Wait, kid. It’s not that deep, we’ll find her!” They sloshed around, looking for some sign, any sign. 

Chewie’s cries echoed off the steel walls.

“Where is she?” Luke shouted.

Luke’s eyes were growing wilder by the moment as panic started to set in. His rifle was aimed at the water; the second something broke the surface he’d fire. Han reached over and lifted the rifle’s muzzle lest he shoot his sister by mistake.

With a coughing gasp, Leia surfaced, streaked with filth. “It’s got my leg!”

“ _What_ does?” Han tried to get a bead on the dark, slithering thing near her foot.

“I don’t know!” 

Luke grabbed Leia’s arm and Han thought he spotted the tentacle wrapped around her calf. Han aimed just below her foot, hoping to hit a tentacle and not her leg. He fired. Something black and green broke the water’s surface, but Leia screamed.

“It’s not letting go, it’s squeezing tighter!” Her face was pained, trying to pull her leg free of the wounded tentacle. A second one reached for her throat.

A grinding, metallic sound screeched through the compactor, and just like that, the tentacle was gone, disappearing under the water. 

“What’s going on?” Han held out an arm to Leia, and between he and Luke they got her to her feet.

“Oh no.” Luke looked at the walls. As if on cue, they started to move in. 

“Of course,” Han groaned. “It’s a trash _compactor_. Chewie, find something to brace it with!”

Chewbacca wrangled pieces of trash that might be long enough and the two of them tried to hold them in place. Luke and Leia looked at one another long enough that Han thought he was going to have to remind them that they were all about to die. _Gaze later, kids; move now_.

“The hatch,” Luke said.

Leia shook her head. “But you can’t—”

“Get the hatch.” He looked older suddenly, more resolved, and a chill ran up Han’s spine. 

Leia sloshed over to the hatch and pulled her lightsaber from beneath her armor. Luke did… nothing, or so it seemed. The walls squealed closer, and nothing Han or Chewie found stopped its crawling movement. Garbage piled up in front of the walls, threatening to become the jaws of a deadly trap.

Leia jammed the red blade through the edge of the hatch and started to cut through the metal, but it was going to take time, and time was something they were running short on. 

Then Luke closed his eyes, his hands lifting to either side, fingers curled. He took a deep breath and splayed his hands.

The walls creaked to a stop.

“Leia, hurry,” Luke said through his teeth. 

Han looked between the kid and the walls, his mind telling him there should be something to see, something tangible holding the walls in place. The fact that there was nothing there twisted something in his brain.

Molten metal dripped from the wounded hatch, hissing and spitting into the foul water. Leia was about halfway around, her whole body taut with effort.

“Can I help?” Han asked.

“No,” the twins said in unison.

Han waited until she was three-quarters of the way around then stepped over and touched Leia’s shoulder. By now, Luke was trembling, and the walls were starting to creak again.

Leia stepped aside and between Han and Chewie, they were able to kick the hatch open enough to slip through. Han shoved Leia through, Chewie followed, and Han motioned for Luke. “Come on, kid!”

“Go,” Luke said. “I’ll follow.” He took a few staggering steps for the hatch.

Han stepped through, then waited. Finally in a burst of movement, Luke leapt forward through the hatch. Han pulled him through as the walls slammed in behind Luke as he let go.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The son is not the father._

Soaked and exhausted, the four of them stood catching their breath in the tiny access hallway.

When Leia recovered, she threw herself at Luke, banging on his armor with one tiny balled fist. “What the hell were you thinking in there? You should _never_ have tried something so stupid!”

“I did it, didn’t I?” Whatever he’d done, there was something different about him now, but Han couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“Hey princess, in case you missed it, he just saved our skins in there.”

“Hey flyboy, in case you missed it, I saved us from the stormtroopers to begin with.” She crowded into Han’s space, menacing him even though she barely came up to his shoulder. “This is between me and my brother, so stay out of it.” She shouldered her rifle and glared at Luke before marching off. “Come on.”

Han wrung out his wet clothes with quick, sharp motions. “Wonderful girl, your sister. Either I’m gonna kill her or I’m beginning to like her.”

“She has that effect on people.” Luke gave him a quick grin, then hurried to catch up to Leia.

He reached her before she managed to take a wrong turn. “Leia, wait! There’s a better way to do this.” When Han and Chewbacca caught up he continued, “I know where the tractor beam is located, and I can move quieter and quicker by myself. They’re not going to scan the ship again, so you three should go there. Once the beam’s down, we can go.”

“I don’t like it,” Leia said immediately.

“Of course you don’t, it wasn’t your idea.” Luke smudged a spot on her cheek clean with his thumb and kissed her there. “Get these two back to the ship. I’ll be there soon.”

“Come on,” Han said. “He’s right. We need you for cover and he’ll be less noticeable alone.”

“Helmets?” Leia said, a last ditch effort.

“We’ll find new ones.” Luke gave her a push toward the ship. “Go, there are plenty of helmets just lying around back the way we came.” He caught Han’s eye over her head. It was as if the kid had aged about five years somewhere in the last five minutes, confidence replacing arrogance in the blink of an eye. “Get her back there safe. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Far be it from Han to argue with a surge of brotherly protectiveness, but of himself, Chewie and Leia, he’d put his money on Leia surviving anything the Death Star could throw at them. He nodded.

Once they had rounded the corner, Luke unshouldered his rifle and continued on his way. Between his lack of a helmet and his filthy armor, the disguise wouldn’t work for more than a few seconds, but it might be enough to get off a few shots if he had to.

Most of the stormtroopers were still combing the detention levels, so he saw only one or two easily-avoidable guards before locating the tractor beam. It took just a few minutes to disable it, and then he was on his way back to the _Falcon_. 

The alarms were still blaring, and he ducked into side corridors to avoid groups of running stormtroopers. Finally the docking bay was in sight. As he watched, Leia, Han, and Chewie sprinted across the deck and up the _Falcon’s_ gangway.

He was just about to join them, when the familiar, black-clad figure of Darth Vader appeared across the wide corridor from him.

_Damn_. 

“Just let me pass,” Luke said. 

Darth Vader strode toward him. “The Emperor has demanded your return to Coruscant.” 

“He can’t keep us there forever. There’s too much we could do to help, to fight.” Luke circled the corridor, trying not to get boxed in.

“Where is your sister?”

“Safe.”

“Where were you going?”

Luke laughed. “So you can stop me? I don’t think so.” 

His father didn’t lift his hand, he barely twitched his fingers and an invisible weight slammed into Luke’s chest, shoving him back to the wall and pinning him there. “Tell me where.”

“No.” Luke wasn’t laughing any more, facing an attack on two fronts. He struggled to free himself of his father’s hold even while he felt the intrusion into his mind. Anger started to build in his gut, anger at being thwarted, anger that this shell of a man dared to get in his way. He shoved back, and the hold on him weakened.

The effort cost him, and the barriers in his mind slipped.

“Yavin,” Vader said, and let Luke go. He sounded shocked. “You were going to Yavin.”

“Someone needs to.” The hold on him dropped so fast he nearly lost his balance. 

“Son, do not do this.” Vader started coming toward him.

Luke froze. No one had ever called him that before. The Emperor called him “my boy.” Darth Vader had never called him anything but Luke. “I’m not your son. My father was someone named Anakin Skywalker.”

Darth Vader stopped advancing.

A sense of triumph surged through Luke. He stood taller. “It’s odd that in all our studies of the Clone Wars, that name never came up. Almost as if someone was trying to hide something from us. One of the Emperor’s greatest enemies, and we know nothing about him?

“I mean, I understood why, once I went looking. General Anakin Skywalker, a man who couldn’t stay loyal to anyone. Is that who you are, _Father_?” Luke’s mouth curled into a grimacing smile, his body tight and shaking, energy threatening to overflow his frame. “Tell me the truth. Are you trying to keep us here because you want to stop the rebels yourself? Or are you trying to protect the Jedi, and your master, Kenobi?”

“Son—”

“ _I am not your son._ “ Luke was the one advancing now. For the first time in his life, he was completely in touch with the dark energy that came so easily to Leia. He could feel it running through this veins, the rage and the power that came with it. It was colder than ice, and harsher. “I am the Emperor’s son. You are nothing but his attack dog, which means you’re also _mine_. You will release us so we can do the work that you should have done long ago, or I will make sure the Emperor knows just how weak you are.”

It was, perhaps, a step too far. Vader pulled his own lightsaber from his belt and just held the hilt there, passive, in his hand.

Luke reached beneath his armor for his own, and ignited it in challenge. 

Vader did nothing until Luke attacked, then his own blade came up to block the lunge. “Don’t do this,” Vader repeated. “You are well-trained, but you are no match for me.”

They circled, clashing once or twice, Luke testing his father’s speed and agility. “Maybe not. But you’ll have to kill me to stop me.” His heart pounded in his ears, and the Force ran through him like a current, fed by his anger. “And I don’t think you’re quite ready to do that, are you?” 

Vader’s reputation was that of a ruthless man, but it had not been a ruthless man in the Emperor’s audience hall, wrangling for the release of his children. Luke was taking a gamble on whatever paternal feelings Vader still had, and he never gambled unless he thought the odds were in his favor.

“Luke, what you’re thinking of doing, it won’t help our cause.” Vader easily parried an overhead slash, and made a half-hearted riposte, which Luke blocked.

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we? Unless you’re going to kill me.”

Slowly they orbited each other, Luke attacking and Vader barely defending. Finally Luke’s back was to the open docking bay where the _Falcon_ awaited. He backed up, and Vader didn’t follow. Luke slashed at the control panel, slamming the blast door shut between them. His last glimpse of Vader was of a man defeated, his shoulders slumped. Luke ran for the _Millennium Falcon_ , shouting as he ran up the ramp. “I’m on, let’s go!”

#

Obi-Wan walked endlessly through the nearly-empty school compound. He wasn’t sleeping these days, so spent his time walking perimeters, thinking. Meditating when he could. The teachers and the older padawans who remained were similarly restless. There was a storm on the horizon, and none of them could see when or how it would break.

The Alliance base bustled with all of the life and energy the school had lost. Sola was standing firm in her determination not to abandon Yavin 4, no matter what. Once Obi-Wan might have been able to persuade her, but that time was long past. He’d lost her, just as he’d lost Anakin.

After the death of the Skywalker twins, Obi-Wan let Padmé pull away in her grief. Perhaps he shouldn’t have. There was grief in abundance in those days. He tried to focus on locating the Jedi who had survived Order 66, and there were heartbreakingly few. He watched as Padmé turned inward, nursing her own anger until it birthed a Rebellion. 

She chose a new name—Sola Soruna, in a nod to her sister and one of the former queens of Naboo—shortly after he sent her the last proof he could find of the destruction of the _Resolute_. Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Luke and Leia Skywalker—they were all gone, and Obi-Wan felt more alone than he ever had before. 

And that was the end, or so he thought. Until Ferus Olin brought him a secretly recorded holo of an Imperial Security Bureau raid on a suspected rebel outpost, one that was funneling stormtroopers fleeing from the Empire into new lives on other worlds. There was absolutely no mistaking the white-haired man in command of the raid: Wulf Yularen, former Admiral of the Republic ship _Resolute_. 

Yularen’s refusal to go down with his ship, combined with the faintest of rumors that the Emperor had an heir, settled queasily in Obi-Wan’s stomach. There was absolute proof that Yularen had accompanied the _Resolute_ on its last, fateful voyage, just as there was proof that no life pods had been jettisoned at the time of the attack.

But if one were jettisoned well _before_ the attack, one just big enough for a man and two infants…

What would it take for the Empire to accept a man who had formerly fought against them for so hard and so long? What sort of gift would that man have to offer? Obi-Wan had a terrible feeling he knew exactly what gift Yularen had given the Emperor.

It took another year to confirm his worst fears. There were not one, but two royal children on Coruscant, and his spies told him they called Luke and Leia. Obi-Wan spent a month trying to reach a decision, in meditation, some of it in seclusion, searching for the best course of action. To try and rescue the children would possibly wipe out the remainder of the Jedi, not to mention put the budding Alliance at risk. 

In the end, he did nothing. Sola Soruna had moved on. She resented him for sending her children away to the deaths, but the Jedi and the Alliance were approaching a comfortable peace. 

Three years later, the twins made their first appearance on Empire Day. If he’d had any doubt before then, they vanished. He waited for Padmé—no, Sola—to descend on him like a demon of vengeance, but she never did. She still talked about her lost children—when she talked about them to him at all—as if they were dead.

The years passed, and the secret between them grew larger, swelling like a balloon pushing them farther apart. Sooner or later the balloon was going to burst—sooner, if the confrontation he saw coming was real.

#

“My lord, we cannot take an entire space station off on some mission of vengeance just because—”

“You can, and you will, Tarkin.” Vader flexed his fingers, and Tarkin gave a tight swallow. For a moment, Vader was tempted to keep squeezing, to feel the life of the Grand Moff drain away. As a rule, he didn’t bother reading the minds of those around him unless they had something he wanted. But Tarkin—the thoughts at the forefront of his mind were like a holo broadcasting over his head. Images of Vader’s daughter were keeping the man distracted.

Whether those thoughts were idle fantasy or a memory, Vader didn’t care. He didn’t want to know. He did know that the moment Grand Moff Tarkin ceased to be necessary to Vader’s plans, he was a dead man.

“You don’t frighten me.” Tarkin pressed on, unaware of any impending doom. “We will stay on course until—”

Darth Vader leaned over him. “I know about the princess.”

Tarkin’s milk-white skin went a shade paler. “My lord, I—”

“Set a course for Yavin 4. Now. And cut all external transmissions from this station. No word gets out about the prince and princess’s presence here.”

“Yes, my lord.” Tarkin actually _scuttled_ away, and satisfying as that was, thinking of new ways to make his death last for months was even better.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There's just too much that time cannot erase._

Tense moments passed as the _Millennium Falcon_ pulled away from the Death Star. All four of them watched in the cockpit, waiting for the inevitable pursuit. And waiting.

“Lightspeed calculations done,” Han said, frowning. “Guess they’re going to let us go.”

Luke, who had been quiet until now, his arm around Leia, spoke up. “They know where we’re going.”

“ _What?_ ” Han spun around at the same time Chewbacca snarled. “What did you _do_ , Luke?”

“I didn’t tell him.” He looked to Leia. “Vader saw it in my mind, I’m sorry.”

“Darth Vader?” Han was seconds away from activating the hyperdrive. Instead he pulled his hand off the lever. “All right. Where are you two planning to go now?”

“Yavin 4,” Leia said immediately.

“Not in this ship you’re not, sister.” Han turned around to glare at them. “Listen, running into your dad’s right hand man and his planet-destroying space station by accident was bad enough. I am not going to take this ship the next place he expects us to be.”

“They’ve probably got a tracker on us anyway,” Leia argued. “It doesn’t matter where you go.”

Chewbacca barked something short and unhappy.

“I know we’ll have to land to scan for it, Chewie. Just let me figure out _where_ …”

“You agreed to take us to Yavin 4—” 

Luke put his hand on Leia’s shoulder, stopping her. “Han, take us to Yavin and we’ll pay you twice what we still owe you, _and_ we’ll help you scan for the tracker when we land.”

Leia started to protest. “Luke—” 

He shook his head at Leia, keeping his blue eyes steady on Han. “Well?”

Han looked away first, turning to Chewbacca to gauge his answer. The two exchanged some silent form of communication, then Chewie shrugged eloquently. 

“I should have known better than to pick up two Imperials,” Han muttered. “Triple what you still owe me, and you don’t set foot off this ship until that tracker is gone.”

“Twice what we owe you,” Leia snapped, “and we don’t turn you over to the Empire for trying to hold us hostage.”

Han hissed through his teeth. “Now see, I don’t think you’d do that.” A hint of a grin. “You like me too much.”

The temperature in the _Falcon’s_ cockpit dropped by ten degrees just from Leia’s voice. “You weren’t _that_ good, Captain.”

Chewbacca groaned and Luke rolled his eyes. “Will you two stop it? Is it a deal or not, Han?” 

“Chewie?” Han asked, and got an affirmative answer. “Okay fine. Don’t make me regret this.”

“I already do,” Leia said. “You all stink. I’m going to go wash off this garbage. I recommend you do the same.” She stormed out.

She shed bits of stormtrooper armor as she went, muttering to herself. Getting her hair clean was going to be nightmare, impossible with just sonics; she had every intention of using some of _Falcon’s_ fresh water supply to wash it. 

It took forever just for her to uncoil it once she reached her bunk, grimacing at the muck that fell out of the long strands as it came down. Scrubbing it clean felt like heaven after she stepped into the Falcon’s refresher to wash off the rest of the filth. After about half an hour, she finally felt human again. 

She came out wrapped in a heavy robe, doing her best to squeeze the water from her long, long hair, and ran straight into one of the last people she wanted to see. 

“Who just leaves armor lying around a corridor?” Han demanded. “Who do you think is gonna pick that up, Princess? Do you see an army of servants running around?” He stopped, taking in the sight of her. For a moment she felt oddly exposed, vulnerable. Very few people ever saw her with her hair down. He was staring at her like he’d never seen her before. 

“I’ll get it,” she half-mumbled, then started to move past him. She’d been lying in the cockpit. He _had_ been that good—what had passed between the three of them in her bunk had been bigger than just a diversion for an afternoon. Now all of a sudden he and Luke were on a first-name basis. Luke had always been faster to form friendships, and she’d never begrudged him that because she knew she was always the single most important person to him. But this—things were shifting and changing, and she felt uncertain of her footing. 

“Hey, there’s no rush. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.” Han touched her arm and she imagined she could feel the warmth through the robe to her skin. 

He had washed as well, and changed into fresh clothes. She could smell the clean scent of soap clinging to him as he stood too close. Much too close. She should step back, she should tell him to take his hands off her, but she wanted to do neither. “Are you all right?” Han asked. “Your leg took a beating from that thing in the trash.”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine; once he mentioned it her calf started to throb painfully. There was probably already a nasty set of bruises forming. It felt as if she had a pulled muscle as well, from where the tentacles had pulled her off her feet and beneath the water.

“Why were you limping then?”

“I wasn’t limping.” Was she? She tried to take a step away and he was right, she was limping. She’d been so determined to get clean she’d ignored the pain.

“Sit down and let me take a look.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Leia repeated.

“Come on, don’t be stubborn.” Han guided her over to the bench and sat her down, the first time she could remember anyone handling her in such a way. It made something in the base of her spine tingle. He knelt before her and gestured for her leg.

Acutely aware of every movement, she lifted her foot and placed her leg in his hands. His warm hands smoothed over her bare skin and made her conscious that she wore nothing beneath her robe.

“Yeah, you’ve already got a set of bruises,” he murmured, and his voice sounded tight. “All around here.” His fingertips traced a circle around her calf and she shivered. “I’ve got some stuff in the _Falcon’s_ medkit that might help.”

“No, it’s fine…” Leia started, trailing off as her eyes met his. She swallowed, aware of the tiny spark of want flaring within.

“Are you sure?” He came up on his knees, and the hand on her calf slipped a little higher.

Leia knew this game, and for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she’d be the winner. She caught his hand, stopping it from going any higher. “I’m sure.”

Whatever other flaws he might have, he took the hint, and drew back. She slipped past him without looking back. 

She didn’t like uncertainty. Uncertainty made her angry, and by the time she’d gathered up the bits of stormtrooper armor and gotten back to her bunk, she was seething. She’d left the cabin in a mess, but now it was clean, probably Luke’s doing. Military training had made him more averse to mess than her. 

He wasn’t there for her to vent her anger at, so she threw the armor up on the top bunk and started angrily drying her hair—stopping only when she realized she was going to wind up doing damage.

Luke finally came in, his own hair still damp and tousled. He read her mood almost immediately and sat beside her on the bunk, taking the towel from her hand. He didn’t ask what was bothering her. He almost never did. 

She wanted to stay mad, but he started carefully drying her hair and the worst of her tension started to fade. 

“He wanted to stop us from going to Yavin,” Luke said finally, and at first she thought he meant Han, before getting a glimpse of his thoughts. “I can’t figure out why, but I sensed fear.”

“ _Darth Vader_ is afraid? Of us?” Leia scoffed. 

“Of what we can do, yes.” Luke used the towel to push the heavy weight of her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. Leia shivered pleasantly. This was familiar; this wasn’t unsettling or unnerving. “We’ll have to move fast once we land.”

“We could move faster if you hadn’t promised your new best friend that we’d help him scan the ship.” She meant to keep her voice cool and detached. It didn’t sound that way to her ears at all. And Luke could always listen with more than just his ears.

“It was the only way to get him to help us.”

“I’m sure you could have just batted your eyelashes at him. He seems to like you.” 

“You’re jealous!” Luke gave a startled laugh, turning her around to face him. 

Leia sniffed. “Please, if I got jealous every time you went chasing off after some new playmate I wouldn’t have time for anything else.” 

“Ah, but this is different, I can see it.” Luke tilted her chin up to make her look him in the eye. “Are you jealous of him or jealous of me?”

Leia pulled her chin away. “I’m not jealous at all.” She _hated_ being transparent, even with him. Maybe especially with him. He got so pleased with himself. 

He slipped his arms around her waist and murmured into her ear. “You can’t lie to me, Leia.” And that was ridiculous—she could and she had, but she wasn’t about to disabuse him. Luke nuzzled her hair aside and punctuated his words with kisses along her neck. “No one is ever going to take your place. Not ever.”

“Just… don’t get too attached, Luke.” She rested her hand over his heart and kissed him. “I know how you are.”

“I’m not. I swear.” 

She didn’t believe him, but she didn’t stop him when he started to peel away her robe. 

#

Luke should have been able to sleep, after everything. Instead he lay in the darkness, curled behind Leia, his eyes open. Things were changing, and they were changing too fast. Darth Vader’s sudden interest in taking on the role of father, after avoiding it for so many years, Luke’s own growing connection to the Force… and he wasn’t lying to Leia about Han, not exactly, but there was something about the three of them together. Something greater than just he and Leia alone.

There were still voices screaming inside his head. How many people had lived on Chandrila? Millions, surely. Maybe more. Fathers and mothers and children. Some of them loyal Imperial subjects. He had every faith that there was a valid military reason for such a drastic step, and yet… he could still hear them. Luke hoped that they had given their lives for a greater cause. He just wished he knew what that was.

His own hands weren’t entirely clean, he knew that. It had never mattered to him before. 

It was the war. It made everything gray. Once they’d put down the rebellion, it would get easier. In a day or two, he and Leia would do their part on Yavin. They could help end this war.

He was still making plans when he finally fell asleep.

#

On nights when Sola couldn’t sleep, she walked. Her security staff hated it, and often wanted her to take someone with her. She had a lot of practice dodging her security. The base on Yavin was as safe as they could make it, but for how long? 

The night air was heavy with moisture, like walking through a heavy mist. Despite the humidity, the sky was clear, and Sola looked up at the stars. Which one of them was getting closer? She was no Jedi, but sometimes she knew things, and she knew that Obi-Wan was right about the Empire coming here. Why she felt compelled to stay despite that, she couldn’t say. Whatever was coming to Yavin 4, she needed to be here. The Alliance needed to be here. She knew it down in her bones. 

Sometimes it was hard to keep hating Obi-Wan. What had happened to Anakin wasn’t his fault, as tempting as it was to blame him. As for the children… he hadn’t been wrong then either. Luke and Leia weren’t safe with her. He couldn’t have known what would happen. If she was going to be honest with herself, she blamed him because there was no one else to blame. Despite everything that had happened, she couldn’t bring herself to blame Anakin. Not entirely. 

There were too many memories, from the tow-headed boy who had defiantly given her his name to the man who had slept uneasily at her side for too few nights. Why couldn’t she remember his smile? The only image she could conjure was of him scowling and serious. 

Sola shook herself and turned back toward her quarters. This was why she should never walk the base at night. She looked up at the stars and they made her sentimental. 

The boy she had loved once was as good as dead. In her darker moments, she felt as if all four of them had died that day. But she hadn’t. She was the one still standing. Changed, scarred, bent, but standing. And if the ghoul the Emperor had resurrected on Mustafar wanted to bring the fight to her door, she would be waiting with an army at her back.

#

Darth Vader dreamed of sand.

The people who served beneath him whispered that he never slept, that he was too much of a machine to have such human needs, but they were wrong. He slept, and he dreamed. 

In the dream he was running across the sands of his childhood, but the feet weren’t his. He ran, his heart in his chest thudding with fear. Before him was a familiar homestead, the place where his mother had found a little bit of happiness before it had been ripped away from her, before she had been ripped away from it. It was burning. The smell of ozone and burning flesh filled his senses and made his stomach clench. 

He spotted blaster marks everywhere before his eyes were drawn to two human forms, burnt and charred beyond recognition. There were no words for the horror he couldn’t explain.

He ran. 

Then he awoke to a disorienting sense of unreality. The dream had been real, as real as any vision he’d received, but it didn’t seem to be the future or the past, or even the now. It was a never-was, a might-have-been. 

Tatooine. Luke had been destined for Tatooine when Yularen had brought the children to the Emperor. Was he dreaming of his son? Was it a warning?

It was still the middle of the night cycle on the Death Star, but sleep was out of Vader’s reach now. They would arrive at Yavin sometime tomorrow, and then he could reclaim his children. Let Tarkin gloat about destroying the rebellion, Vader had other concerns.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world_ — Yeats

Yavin 4 was a steamy, soaking wet hellhole. 

The twins were irritable and out of sorts the moment they stepped off the _Falcon_. Still, they’d been true to their end of the bargain, and had helped Han and Chewie search the _Falcon_ from stem to stern for any sign of an Imperial tracker. Leia was the one who’d found it, tucked up under one of the shield generators. Han had lifted her up so she could reach it, all the while not dwelling on how her waist felt beneath his hands. He also wasn’t thinking about goodbyes. He kept his thoughts focused on the cold hard cash that was going to be his and Chewbacca’s any minute now.

Leia had gone to haggle with someone over possible ground transportation for her and Luke, and Luke had stayed behind to help unload the few things they’d brought on board. 

Han had assumed all along that they were sneaking to Yavin for some sort of wild party, but neither of them were dressed for that. They both looked practical, like— _be honest, they look like they’re headed for a fight_. He didn’t miss the cache of weapons they had with them, or the ones they both had stowed on their bodies. 

“So… how are you two getting back home?” Han meant for the question to sound like idle curiosity.

Luke looked up from where he was crouched next to one of their bags. His eyes were miles away; there was something unrecognizable in his face that nearly made Han take a step backwards, something hard and wild. “Huh?” He smiled and the illusion vanished briefly. “We’ll find someone. Trust me, you don’t want to stick around.”

“What the hell are you two planning, Luke?” 

Whatever changes had happened on the Death Star, they looked to be permanent. Han had seen cold blue eyes before, but he’d taken this kid for a spoiled brat, and now the brat was looking at him with killer’s eyes.

“Don’t worry about it. Just get off-world as soon as you can.” Luke stood and dusted off his hands. “We’ll be fine.”

“Sure. Of course you will.” 

Leia came into view, looking grimly satisfied. “I’ve got a couple of speeder bikes for us.” 

Not a landspeeder—that suggested they were going somewhere remote. Han tried to tell himself it wasn’t his business, or his problem. Not anymore. “Great. Well, if you two are all set…”

“You want your money, of course.” Leia handed him the cash, stepping close enough to hide the transaction from any observers. Before he could pocket the credits, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down for a long, slow, very thorough kiss. “Take care of yourself, hotshot.”

Luke followed after, with a slightly more restrained hug and a kiss pressed to his ear. “Stay safe.”

“You too.” He caught Luke’s hand as he drew away. “Hey kid.” When Luke turned back to him, he was at a loss for words. “I mean it. Whatever crazy thing you two are planning, come back in one piece.”

“We will. We always do.” There was that feral grin again, the one that raised the hair on the back of his neck. Han suddenly felt a little sorry for whoever they were going after.

Han tipped them a mocking salute then forced himself to turn his back and climb on board the _Falcon_. By the time he got the cockpit, they were out of sight.

#

Leia had the coordinates for the most likely location of the school. If they were lucky, it would take them less than an hour to get there on the bikes. Neither of them spoke as they loaded up their bags, and neither of them looked back to the _Falcon_. 

They were halfway there when it started raining so hard the visibility dropped to nearly nothing and they had to stop.

Their wet-weather gear was little use against the downpour and they huddled beneath a tree for shelter. 

“We should still have a few hours before dark to get a sense of the layout,” Luke said, practically having to shout over the rain.

“That many Jedi, they’re bound to feel us coming.” She’d argued this before. They had no chance of a total surprise attack. 

Their plan, such as it was, was simple. They had enough detonators in their bags to bring down a large building or two and weapons enough to face an army. If they used the detonators and some well-placed blaster shots, they could herd their opponents for the best possible location for a massacre. Barring that, there was really only one person that Luke wanted to be sure they targeted: Obi-Wan Kenobi. With the leader gone, the rest of the order would be weakened. And perhaps, whatever hold Kenobi had over their father would end.

“Just because they know we’re around somewhere, that doesn’t mean they can stop us.” He wasn’t wrong—they both had some shielding ability, so they could hide their exact location, if not their presence.

“What are we going to do about Vader? He’ll be right behind us.” _With the Death Star_ , neither of them needed to say aloud. 

“They’re not going to use it on this moon with us still here.” Luke sounded more certain than Leia felt. 

“Maybe not, but that won’t stop him from sending troopers after us. We could wind up fighting on two fronts.” 

The rain started to slacken enough for them to see the path ahead, so they mounted the speeder bikes again. “They’ll have to find us first.” He gave her a grin brimming with overconfidence, and if it were anyone else, she’d think he was going to get them killed. But she’d seen him pull off the impossible too many times, wearing that exact grin, to lose faith now.

Leia shook the rain out of her eyes and followed him.

#

“Status report,” Vader demanded.

“We should be arriving at the Yavin system in less than an hour, Lord Vader,” the technician said. 

Vader looked out the viewport, seeing nothing but the space through which they traveled. The Death Star was fast, but a small ship like the _Millennium Falcon_ would be faster by far. Were Luke and Leia already on Yavin 4? 

He should have taken care of Obi-Wan long ago. Now he would, if only to keep his children from doing it. It was this thought that kept him occupied until the technician announced they were about to drop out of hyperspace.

When they arrived, Vader was already in a shuttle, ready to take off the moment he got clearance. He’d have to act quickly. Tarkin was under orders not to fire until Vader gave him the signal… but Vader knew better than to trust his life or the lives of his children to that man. He could count on having no more time than it would take for the Death Star to get a clear shot of the moon.

It was a chance he had to take.

#

The twins had made planetfall. Obi-Wan could sense them, two burning-bright flames drawing closer. He could register nothing but their existence, no hint of their thoughts or plans, no suggestion how close they were.

Obi-Wan wasn’t the only one who could sense them. Ferus met him as Obi-Wan left the main building. “They’re coming. This threat you’ve been talking about.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan watched the patrols moving around the school’s perimeter. There were roughly a dozen Jedi remaining at the school, and half again as many older padawans.

“Master, don’t you think it’s time you tell us who we’re up against here?” 

There were too many secrets locked away in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s mind; he’d forgotten how to share them, even with his second-in-command. “The Emperor’s children.”

“The Sith twins?” Ferus’s face wrinkled in disgust, reminding Obi-Wan of the boy he’d once been. Ferus wasn’t a boy anymore; in fact, the gold streak in his dark hair was turning to silver. “I didn’t think the Emperor ever let them out of their cage.” 

“They’re not Sith, not yet. Not while their father lives.” Obi-Wan lived in a world of half-truths and misdirection. “But the twins are trained, and they are strong.”

“How many troops are they bringing with them? Can you tell?”

“I think… perhaps… none.” Obi-Wan should have expected no different from the children of Anakin Skywalker. And if they were anyone else’s children, such a foolhardy plan wouldn’t be worth worrying about. It remained to be seen if the twins had inherited their father’s blind luck at pulling off the impossible.

Ferus laughed. “You can’t be serious. What, do they expect us to just surrender?”

“You of all people should know the damage that just one or two people, strong in the Force, are capable of,” Obi-Wan chided. 

“But against all of us, Master, what chance do they have?”

“Ferus,” Obi-Wan reached out and took him by the arm. “I want you to tell the others. No one is to harm either of the twins.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but I doubt that they’ll give us the same consideration.”

“I know, but you must trust me, Ferus. We cannot let anything happen to them.” He waited for Ferus to ask him why, but for once, he did not. Obi-Wan went on. “These two… they have an important role to play. They may not even know it yet. But we _must_ keep them safe.”

“All right.” Ferus wore a skeptical smile, one eyebrow raised. “I’ll tell the others. No trying to kill the two people coming here to kill us.”

“I mean it. They’re no use as a bargaining chip if they’re dead or maimed.” Obi-Wan had no intention of bargaining with the Emperor, but that knowledge he’d keep to himself for now. Ferus was much more likely to follow orders if he thought he knew the reason behind them.

He watched Ferus walk away and shook his head at the caprice of fate. Once Ferus and Anakin had fought against each other at the temple, both trying to be the best. Obi-Wan had favored Anakin, and yet here they were, Anakin as good as gone, and Ferus as loyal and dedicated a second-in-command as Obi-Wan could have wished for.

#

The alarms sounded across the compound just after 1600 hours. The afternoon rains were still falling, cutting down visibility. Shara sat in the mission briefing thinking about how tricky getting out of atmo was going to be. 

It turned out, there were bigger things to worry about. General Dodonna detailed the defenses and armaments on the battle station currently hanging over their heads, and then said something so ridiculous that Shara wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly at first. “A small one-man fighter should be able to penetrate the outer defense.”

Shara spoke up. “Pardon me for asking, sir, but what good are snub fighters going to be against that?” The pilots around her echoed her concern.

“An analysis of the plans provided by Mon Mothma has demonstrated a weakness in the battle station.” 

It was worse than Shara thought, as Dodonna went on to describe the impossible: hitting a two-meter square with a proton torpedo, flying at speed, with fire coming at them from all directions. The mood after the briefing was less than elated, more like grimly determined.

They broke to get to their ships. Kes stood waiting by Shara’s Y-wing. Her astromech was in place already, all she had to do was get on board.

Kes read her face as she approached. “That bad, huh?” He was in uniform, but the chances of the Pathfinders seeing action were minimal. Why would the Empire bother sending troops down here when they could just blow the moon out of orbit?

Shara answered him by throwing her arms around him, pressing her face against his neck. This was a rotten mindset to go into battle with, but she couldn’t shake the notion that this was the last time. 

“Hey. Hey,” Kes cradled her head and pressed kisses into her hair. “We’ve been in tight spots before. And I hear we’ve got a sure-fire way to blow that station to hell.”

“Not that sure-fire.” Shara was horrified to hear her voice thicken and she swallowed the lump trying to form in her throat. “But it’s a chance.”

“So get up there and save our asses, Shara Bey.” Kes pulled back and looked her in the eye, giving her the smile she’d first fallen in love with. “Cause if anybody can do it, it’s you.”

Shara kissed him hard, because if it was the last time, she was going to make it count. “When I get back you and I are going to have a talk about the future, Captain.”

“Babies?”

“Let’s talk about one, first.” She kissed him again. “If we wait until this war’s over, it might be too late.”

Kes stepped back and watched her climb into the cockpit. “Hurry back.”

“Be good while I’m gone.” It was they always said before a fight, and Shara swallowed hard again as she pulled on her flight helmet.

As soon as it was on, though, a quiet sense of calm descended, and everything in the universe narrowed to the controls beneath her hands, the sky in front of her, and the voices in her comms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay—the last three chapters should come fairly quickly. The next chapter is almost finished!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I know your anger, I know your dreams; I've been everything you want to be...” - Living Colour_

Plan A was well on its way to failure by the time Luke and Leia got closer to the small collection of stone buildings that served as the Jedi school. 

“Well someone knows we’re coming,” Leia complained, as she took aim at the second sentry they’d run into. 

“I don’t hear any alarms yet.”

“Why would they, if they all know we’re here?” 

The rain had stopped, but they were both nearly soaked to the bone. Luke tried to wring out some of the damp while he considered their options. “All right. We still blast the doors on all the buildings as planned. Start south, and drive them north through the complex. We’ll circle back to the main building.”

“This is all for nothing if we can’t find Kenobi.” Leia studied the layout of the grounds ahead of them, her eyes narrowed. There was ample cover everywhere, between the trees and low, decorative walls.

Luke interrupted her thoughts. “I bet he’ll find us.” The head of the order, surely he wouldn’t hide himself away. He knew who they were. He had to.

They blew the first doors with little opposition, until the Jedi realized where they were and what they were doing. 

All of the training the twins had done, together and separate, fell into place. Luke and Leia moved like one entity, trading shots with the Jedi from behind the cover of one of the walls.

It didn’t take either of the twins long to realize that their opponents weren’t shooting to kill. Every shot that came their way was a stun bolt. 

It wasn’t just the blasters, either. Twice a couple of Jedi got close to them to engage in close combat. Luke kept firing at the distant opponents while Leia held off the close ones with her lightsaber. The Jedi spent all of their time deflecting and defending, and very little time on attack. 

“They want us alive,” Luke said.

“That’s unfortunate for them.” Several of the Jedi had already fallen, and while some looked to be just wounded, others weren’t moving at all.

Using the cover of several trees, they were able to get close enough to more sets of doors, planting the detonators a few at a time, then setting them off all at once. Luke’s strategy was starting to work. They were slowly corralling the Jedi into one corner of the complex. “Take the south end,” he told Leia. She nodded and ran off.

He could hear the voices of the trapped Jedi ahead of him inside, feel their fear. They felt young, younger than him, but determined. They wouldn’t go down easy. Luke had a moment’s hesitation. He could leave them where they were. If he blew the door, they wouldn’t be able to escape easily. But if he left them alive…

The decision was taken from his hands. 

Luke felt as much as heard the new arrival behind him, and turned around to see a Jedi with silver-streaked dark hair striding toward him. Before Luke could react, the Jedi flung out his free hand and sent Luke flying back into the wall, where he lost his balance and slid to the ground.

“Ezra, get them out of there!” The older Jedi had his lightsaber out and advanced on Luke. Behind him, the younger Jedi fled.

Luke’s own blade was out before he was fully to his feet. 

“Did you think you were going to come here and kill children?” The Jedi sounded honestly curious instead of mocking. “Did you think we wouldn’t know you were coming?” He feinted at Luke with the lightsaber before trying to shove him back with the Force again. Luke saw it coming, and dodged the feint, deflecting the push easily. 

“I came here to stop traitors to the Empire.” _Since my father would not_. Luke got away from the wall, circling to give himself more space. 

“But now you’re not certain.”

Luke felt the man prodding into his mind and strengthened his shields. The man was strong; he was no student here, obviously, but a full Jedi. 

“Now you’re wondering if you’re on the right side.”

Luke laughed at the obvious ploy, burying any hint of uncertainty deep down. “That would be easy for you, wouldn’t it, if you could just turn me?” He reached for the anger he’d found on the Death Star, pulled strength from it. Leaping forward, he pressed the assault recklessly, counting on the Jedi’s reluctance to hurt him.

“Nothing about the light side of the Force comes easily.” The man smiled over the blade of his lightsaber, which was a brilliant green. “But you wouldn’t know that. Yet.” He blocked Luke’s attack and the two of them circled again.

Luke was overmatched. If Leia were here, maybe, _maybe_ she would stand a chance. The man was at least twice his age and probably had more years of training than Luke had been alive. The two of them were at an impasse. The Jedi did nothing but hold Luke at bay, never pressing the attack, although he could have.

It was infuriating. Luke could feel Leia’s impatience; no doubt she was wondering where the hell he was, and he was stuck here. Only his pride kept him from calling for her. 

He couldn’t afford to stop fighting, and yet it seemed there was no way he could win. The anger built in his gut and he fed it, looking for the extra strength. Could he reach his blaster? He was a better shot than he was a swordsman.

“You’re talented,” the Jedi said after he blocked another complex attack, ducking as Luke leapt over his head. “But you could be more.”

“More than the Emperor?” Damn it, he was winded. Still, he smiled thinly. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“You don’t seem like the dictator type.” Another parry. “In fact, you seem—”

A massive explosion shook the building to the foundations. The Jedi’s focus wavered for a split second, just long enough. Luke got past his guard and stabbed upward through the man’s chest. 

Luke had been responsible for several deaths before. Careless flying, racing accidents, one memorable occasion he and Leia had meant to get one of the tutors fired and got the man executed instead. The Jedi he’d shot out in the courtyard. This was the first person he’d killed directly, face-to-face. He watched as the light flickered out of the man’s brown eyes, his last expression one of mild surprise. 

The body dropped to the floor and Luke stepped back. He waited a moment to see if he felt anything, if he felt different. There was only the same surge of triumph he felt whenever he defeated someone at anything, and a sense of relief that he could continue on his way. 

Nothing more.

He ran in the direction of the explosion.

#

Obi-Wan felt the explosion in his feet and in his chest. That one was close. Cracks appeared in the walls of the training room where he’d taken some of the youngest padawans remaining. One more explosion like that and they’d have to evacuate. The twins were out there somewhere and he couldn’t get a pinpoint on them. It was maddening. 

A short blast of despair and pain flooded Obi-Wan’s mind, and only his years of discipline kept him from showing anything to the students. _Ferus, no._ But how? The only answer he got was a vision of clear blue eyes. The boy, then. 

Of all the deaths that day, this one hit him hardest. Ferus was one of his few remaining links to a better time, and now that link was severed. 

Despite all of the Jedi preparation, the twins were still proving to be devastating enemies. He had no clear sense of where the girl was, and now the boy had killed a man nearly as powerful as Obi-Wan. For the first time since he realized the twins were coming to Yavin, he felt a searing sense of doubt. Perhaps trying to keep them alive was the wrong idea. Perhaps it was too late for that.

He looked around at the padawans relying on him, and made a decision. Obi-Wan took out his comlink and sent a distress signal to the rebel base.

As he was finishing, another group of older padawans came in. “Master Kenobi.” The leader, a boy named Ezra, stepped forward. “These are the last of the padawans I could find. The rest…”

“I know.” The losses weren’t as bad as they could have been, but bad enough. Obi-Wan looked around. None of them were children, strictly speaking. He couldn’t help but think of them as such. Most of them not much younger than the two children coming to kill them. “How many others are still fighting?”

Ezra’s face brightened slightly. “Most of them were still outside. I didn’t see anyone fighting. I saw one of the attackers. Ferus was—”

“Listen to me. All of you.” Obi-Wan looked around the room. “I sent a message to the rebel base, but there’s no guarantee they got it. Go there. Tell them what’s happening and wait until you hear from me.”

“But Master Kenobi—”

“There’s only two of them, and we need all of you safe. The rest of us can handle them. _Go_.”

Ezra took the lead again—Obi-Wan filed that away for future consideration—and the room emptied.

#

Deep underground beneath the Great Temple of Massassi, Sola stood in the control room, watching the display showing the coming battle overhead. 

The intercom gave the countdown. _“Stand-by alert. Death Star approaching. Estimated time to firing range, fifteen minutes.”_

Their fighters were closing on the Death Star rapidly when an answering swarm of TIE fighters appeared from the station. Signals on both sides started to wink out of existence as ships were destroyed.

It never got easier, standing by and watching good people die at her command. The pilots communicated back and forth over the comms, which also managed to catch every single cry of “I’m hit!”, every single final scream. 

There were too many of those last. Their fighters were vanishing at a terrifying rate. The few that remained were struggling to get past the TIE fighters and capital ships and reach the Death Star’s trench.

“Ma’am, we’re receiving a transmission from Kenobi.” One of the comm officers came over to her with the message in hand. “It’s a distress signal. They’re under attack.”

Sola could almost laugh. “ _He’s_ under attack.” She could send the Pathfinders, but what would be the point if their fighters overhead failed? 

“What should I tell him?”

Another fighter’s death cry sounded over the comms.

“Tell him we’ll be there as soon as we can.” _If we survive_.

_“Death Star will be in range in ten minutes.”_

#

The Jedi were running from her.

That was the only explanation. After the last couple of charges Leia had set, she hadn’t seen anyone.

At first she’d picked them off from afar, but then they’d gotten smart and came at her close up, trying to pin her down. Their reluctance to harm her had made them easy targets.

Leia’s blood sang as her lightsaber arced to and fro, cutting down two opponents at once. The others stood back as she advanced. Power surged through her; she felt on fire with it. Invincible. 

And then there’d been no one. The remaining Jedi were either dead or hiding, so she’d used the detonators. Several of the outbuildings were in shambles, and the main building was damaged.

There was no sign of Luke, and she saw no one who looked like they might be a venerable Jedi Master. 

Leia entered the main building. 

She felt the presence as soon as she crossed the threshold. Someone powerful was nearby. It had to be Kenobi. 

The hallways were twisting and labyrinthine, but Leia homed in on the right direction, moving with quick, quiet caution through the crumbling old building. A few twists and turns later, she entered a large room.

It was empty except for the old man in a brown cloak at the far end, in front of a bank of windows. His hair and beard were mostly white, but his eyes were sharp, and settled on her.

“I wasn’t certain which of you would find me first,” he said. “Although I imagine your brother will be along shortly.” Kenobi made no move toward a weapon, but simply looked at Leia with intense curiosity. “You look like your mother.”

Leia paused mid-step. She had enough self-control to keep her face neutral, to hide her surprise.

“They never told you anything about her, did they?” Kenobi glanced out the windows as if looking for someone, then back to her. 

No one had, but not for lack of her asking. As children she and Luke both had begged for any information about their mother. None ever came. She gave up asking long before Luke did. She wasn’t going to start again now.

“I didn’t come here for your stories, old man.” Leia drew and ignited her saber. Even as she advanced on him, Kenobi didn’t draw his weapon, his face still a quiet, peaceful mask. 

“I know. You and your brother came a very long way just to try and kill me.”

“Not just you.” She stepped deliberately, slowly. Unlike Luke, she didn’t view this as any sort of act of revenge on behalf of their father. No, this was a stepping stone. If she could go to the Emperor with the blood of his enemies on her hands, perhaps he would stop looking at her as a decorative toy for his court.

Leia advanced. Within striking distance, she lifted the blade and brought it down toward Kenobi’s head. At the last possible second, faster than she could have believed, his weapon was in his hand and up, blocking her with an electric clash. 

She stepped back, and came back in low. The fight was on.

#

Vader brought the shuttle in low above the tree cover, seeing the smoke rising long before he got to the clearing. Finding the school was simple. So much Force energy concentrated in one place, and in the midst of it, his children, gleaming bright-hot like binary suns. 

The school was as good as destroyed. Even from this distance he could see the rubble of several buildings. Only one main building remained, and that damaged. Bodies, although not as many as he would have thought, lay scattered around the buildings. 

Pride warred with fear. His children had done this. They were strong and ruthless. They would grow to be feared, perhaps as feared as he was.

Unless someone stopped them.

He landed the shuttle on the edge of the grounds. The twins had to be in the building, so he strode that way, moving fast. He’d reached the last ruined building when one of the figures on the ground caught his eye.

_Was that…?_ It was, of course it was. Where else would Ferus Olin be in this galaxy if not at their old master’s side?

Time was slipping through his fingers, but Vader knelt by Ferus’s body for a moment, seeing the years on the man’s face, wondering not for the first time how age might have changed his own face if things were different. 

The lightsaber wound in Olin’s chest was vivid and still smouldering. Which one had done it? Did it matter?

Before he could rise to his feet, a blaster shot exploded into the wall above his head. Several Jedi were running toward him, weapons in hand.

He stepped forward to meet them. Time was short, and they were in his way.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Journeys end in lovers meeting—every wise man’s son doth know.

Fire crackled from the shattered buildings and the scent of smoke was growing stronger as Luke reached the main building. Leia was there; he could feel her anger. She’d found Kenobi. 

From across the compound he heard the sound of blasters firing, and—too late—registered another presence in the Force. 

_Father._

Damn it. Their time was running out. Luke hurried into the building, taking a moment to home in on Leia’s presence. He ran through the winding hallways until he heard the sounds of lightsabers clashing. 

The huge room was in shambles, furniture smoldering in pieces everywhere. Leia stood on a table, deftly leaping off it to flip over the old man’s head, slashing viciously at him in the process. He barely ducked in time, and the hood of his robe fell away in two pieces.

Kenobi’s back was to Luke. He hadn’t been seen yet. Even Leia hadn’t acknowledged his presence yet.

Luke crossed the room on quick, silent feet, not activating his lightsaber until the moment he started to bring it down towards Kenobi’s exposed head.

The old man blocked him without even looking, then spun out from between the twins, getting them both in his sights. He backed up faster than Luke would’ve thought possible, giving him time and room to look them over.

It was uncanny, Obi-Wan thought. Watching the two of them advance on him was like watching history repeat itself, mirrored. Their father had had a hand in training them; it was written in their stances, in their every move. And everything their father had learned, he had learned from Obi-Wan.

“Your father will be here soon,” Obi-Wan said. The boy was unsurprised, but he’d caught the girl off-guard. “What side do you think he’ll be on?”

He needed to get out of this room, and fighting multiple opponents would be easier in a narrower space.

Obi-Wan backed toward the door, leading the twins with him. They advanced, thinking they had the upper hand. Obi-Wan barely resisted smiling as he led them out of the room.

#

“Green Leader, this is Red Leader, we’re ready for our attack run.”

“I copy, Red Leader.” Shara kept her eye on her scanners. “We’ve got your back.” 

The TIE fighters kept coming. The battle station had a seemingly inexhaustible supply. Shara and her squadron did their best to cut the numbers down.

“Green Four, watch it, you’ve got two on your tail.” Shara moved to intercept, hauling the less nimble Y-wing into a dive before blasting one of the TIEs. She’d much rather be piloting an X-wing or even an A-wing, but the Y-wing had the firepower they needed, so that’s what she’d been assigned. 

Half of Red Squadron died in the first attack run, including Red Leader. Shara lost three pilots between the TIE fighters and turbolaser towers. 

She got a glimpse of Yavin 4 as she chased after a pair of fighters and had a moment to think of Kes, down on the base. Was he looking up into the sky? Was he watching the battle in a control room?

Laser fire clipped one of her solar panels and her astromech chirped a warning. “I see it. Thanks.” This was no place to daydream.

“Gold Leader, is your team set?” 

“Affirmative, Green Leader. Lining up now.”

They tried a second time. Gold Four and Five made it into the trench before Gold Four got picked off.

Shara took heavy fire keeping the path clear for Gold Five. “Take your shot so we can get out of here!”

“It’s away!”

Every pilot and every observer back on Yavin 4 held their collective breath. 

“Negative,” Gold Leader groaned. “It didn’t go in.”

_Damn_. “All right, Green Group, we’re up,” Shara said. “Wedge, you take point, the rest of us will give you cover.” Of all her pilots, he had the steadiest hand. 

“Copy, Green Leader. Going in.”

A new burst of TIE fighters swarmed their rear quarters. One by one her pilots got picked off, until only Shara and Wedge were left.

They zipped down the trench, Wedge out in front. Shara took aim at the turret lasers trying to shoot them down. Above them, the remnants of Gold and Red squadrons tried to keep the TIEs out of their hair.

#

_“Death Star will be in range in five minutes.”_

Sola clenched her fists, resisting the urge to wipe her sweating palms against her robes. As she listened to the remainder of Green squadron make a last-ditch effort, she had a solid moment to regret her decision to stay at the base. All of these people were going to die, and it was her fault. Her and her pride.

“ _Almost there_ ,” Green Two was saying. 

“ _Hold it steady, Wedge, the path is clear_.” That from Green Leader. Then, “ _Blast it, where did that come from? We picked up two new bogies. Stay on target!_ ”

Tension was written on every face. None of them would meet Sola’s eyes. The Rebel Alliance could end, right here, within the next few minutes. _I was a fool_.

“ _I’m hit!_ ” Wedge shouted into the comms, but the sound wasn’t followed by a scream or static. “ _Shara, my targeting system’s offline_.”

“ _Get clear, Wedge. You’ve done all you can_.”

“ _Sorry_.” 

The sound of Shara Bey’s breathing carried over the comms, slow and steady. “ _This is Green Leader. Setting up for my attack run._ ”

The countdown went on. _“Death Star will be in range in three minutes.”_

#

The Jedi proved to be almost no obstacle at all. Dead or just wounded, Vader left them behind him in a smoking path to the main building where his children were. 

Ten meters away from the building, Vader watched as Obi-Wan Kenobi came through the doors, facing off against Luke and Leia. Kenobi looked old—Vader was startled to realize just what twenty years could do to a man. Old or not, he was still a Jedi, and still dangerous.

Lightsabers flashed and flickered and collided; together the twins might be a match for Vader’s old master. Vader was tempted to stay where he was, and see what came of it. Would he step in and save Kenobi’s life, if it came to that, or let one of his children kill the Jedi?

From the looks of the school grounds, Kenobi would not be the first Jedi either of them had killed that day.

He stayed away until Kenobi started to win. The balance began to shift slowly at first. Age to a Jedi meant more experience, more cunning, more strength in the Force, to make up for any lack of agility or speed. Luke missed his footing, stumbled, barely knocked away a slash that could have cost him his hand. Then Leia moved just a split second too slow on a block, and Obi-Wan landed a blow across the meat of her arm—glancing, but enough that Vader heard the sizzling of her flesh.

Leia barely reacted except to stumble back, but Luke—Luke screamed as if he were the one feeling the burning pain, and came at Kenobi in a blind frenzy of rage. 

It was going to end badly for him, Vader realized, watching as his son brought his lightsaber down again and again, blocked each time, leaving foolish openings that a crueler opponent than Obi-Wan Kenobi would have taken advantage of. 

Vader strode toward him, his own weapon drawn. His plan was to join his son in battle, to give Leia a chance to catch her breath, to recover. 

That wasn’t what happened. 

Instead, Leia caught sight of her father, and reacted with a scream of her own. Injury or no, she ran at him, her beautiful face a mask of contorted fury. Caught by surprise, Vader was forced into a defensive position. 

“You won’t take this from us,” she growled, striking and retreating faster than he’d seen on the practice grounds on Coruscant. The dark energy that flowed through her and from her was breathtaking. He was forced to keep his attention on defending himself from her vicious attacks.

Holding her off was easy. Holding her off without hurting her—that was more difficult. He let his daughter push him back a few meters, studying her weaknesses and looking for the best way to disarm her. 

Then he saw it, the way she left her guard down after an overhand blow. Vader stopped retreating, and waited.

#

Obi-Wan Kenobi was caught off-guard by the boy’s sudden attack for longer than he should have been. What he was seeing made no sense. As he fended off each blow, Obi-Wan studied his opponent. The boy was furious—both the twins were furious—but the girl was channeling that rage through her. He could see it, emanating from the core of her being, making her stronger. The boy was weakened. He wasn’t channeling anything, except possibly, _possibly_ , fear. 

What was he seeing here? 

Despite the stakes, Obi-Wan found himself slipping into a teaching mindset, analyzing his opponent’s every movement, each flicker of expression across the boy’s face. As he watched, Luke appeared to get control of his anger, to calm himself, and as he did, his attacks on Obi-Wan grew fiercer, more direct, more powerful. 

He kept an eye on Leia and Vader (of course he’d come after his children, but had he come to help them or stop them—Obi-Wan still wasn’t certain), but he focused his attention on Luke. Keeping the boy at bay was simple, although it was getting more difficult as he got control of his emotions. This boy had been trained nearly from birth to tap into the dark side of the Force, to use his negative emotions, and from what Obi-Wan was seeing, he wasn’t terribly adept at it.

In fact, the boy had no idea that each time he lifted that red lightsaber, he was reaching for the light side of the Force unconsciously.

Had Vader and Palpatine both been so blind, or were they so desperate to turn the boy out in their own images that they’d hamstring his potential?

After Luke nearly landed a blow, his face schooled to deadly calm, Obi-Wan smiled faintly. “You’ll never be a Sith like your father, you know.”

“You’re right. My father is weak.” Luke lunged forward, forcing Obi-Wan a step back.

“You could be so much more, Luke. The Emperor has limited your vision.” Obi-Wan deflected another blow, then pushed forward, testing Luke’s defenses. “Search your feelings. You know it to be true.”

Luke faltered and Obi-Wan took advantage, forcing him back. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Leia was having similar difficulties with her father. Her lightsaber went flying from her hand, and she dove after it, ducking from her father’s blade.

#

Shara closed her mind to everything except the feel of the stick in her hands, seeing the Y-wing as an extension of her body. Explosions burst around her, but she put her trust in the rest of the fleet. All that mattered was the targeting computer in front of her, counting off the meters at a rapid clip.

The comms faded to a dull crackle, the sound of her heartbeat loud in her ears. She held her breath.

The targeting computer beeped loudly. _Target acquired_.

Shara Bey fired.

#

“ _Alert, all personnel: Death Star in firing range. The Death Star is in firing range_.”

The alert was drowned out by whoops over the comms. “ _It’s in! Shara, get clear!_ ”

The few remaining rebel radar blips all made an abrupt turn away from the Death Star, moving away from it at top speed.

The large solid object on the radar seemed to draw within itself for a second, then the image shattered into a million shimmering pieces.

Sola leaned in and slammed the comms button. “Visual confirmation? Does anyone have visual confirmation?”

Laughter erupted from the pilots. “ _Hell yes! Objective complete!_ ”

The control room erupted in shouts and hugs of relief. Sola slumped, leaning heavily against the console. Her small alliance would survive another day.

Survive. _The Jedi Academy_. 

Sola had no time for celebration. She grabbed General Dodonna by the arm. “We need to get the Pathfinders over to the school, now.”

#

Kenobi’s words threw Luke for a loop. He and the other Jedi had both said the same thing, about him being more. What were they seeing? More than what? 

He worked to summon the anger that had gotten him this far, tried to remember how it had felt on the Death Star when that power had surged through him.

Nothing. 

“You feel it now,” Obi-Wan said. “You know. When you’re calm, that’s when you’re the strongest, isn’t it?”

It was pure manipulation; it could be nothing else. Still, the nagging awareness that he had never been as strong as Leia, and might never be…

He needed to focus. The old man was gaining the upper hand on him, driving back toward the building and if Luke wasn’t careful, he’d wind up trapped. 

His thoughts—and the fight—were interrupted by a blinding burst of light overhead. A huge explosion shimmered through the atmosphere, debris burning as it fell.

All four of them paused, and a shadow passed over the two faces Luke could see, similar, he imagined, to the shadow on his own face. There weren’t as many people on the Death Star as had been on Chandrila, but the effect this close was the same.

Leia recovered faster than the rest of them and lunged at their father. Vader made a simple gesture with his hand and she flew across the open space and slammed into the building. Luke heard/felt the air leave her lungs.

“Leia!” Before he could extricate himself from his own fight, she was back on her feet, her eyes blazing. Luke’s attention was brought forcefully back to Obi-Wan as the Jedi slashed at his sword hand, landing a glancing blow that sizzled and burned. His hand opened in reflex and the lightsaber fell to the ground.

As he scrabbled to pick it up, blaster fire erupted where he’d been standing a moment before. Battle cries of men and women filled the air and Obi-Wan was shouting for them to stand down. 

Leia lay on the grass and Luke’s stomach dropped—but no, she hadn’t been shot, not yet. 

A dozen soldiers were running toward them. Luke snagged his lightsaber and—Obi-Wan forgotten—ran to his sister. He helped her to her feet and the two of them stood back to back as Vader and Obi-Wan circled. 

“Now what?” Leia muttered. She drew her blaster and fired first at their father, who deflected them, and then at some of the approaching rebels—who did not.

“We can’t hold them all off.” Despair threatened to break Luke’s concentration as he scanned the area for something, anything that would let them escape.

When blaster fire started coming from overhead, he was ready to give up entirely. If the rebels had air support, he and Leia could only surrender and hope for the best.

“Luke, look!” Leia pointed toward the source of the guns above.

Luke felt his jaw dropping. “That son of a bitch.” 

The _Millennium Falcon_ came in low over their heads, and settled on the grass. The ramp lowered before it had fully touched the ground. Luke grabbed Leia’s hand and then ran for it.

Halfway up the ramp, Luke turned and saw the woman leading the charge toward them. He stopped, distracted.

“Luke, come on!”

The woman—older, with hard dark eyes and a familiar set to her jawline—had her blaster aimed right at him. She couldn’t miss, but she didn’t fire. _Who are you?_ They looked at one another across the distance, and Luke nearly lost his balance when the _Falcon_ started to lift off and the ramp started to close.

#

Sola watched the Imperial twins escape, cursing herself for not taking the clear shot she had of the boy. Something in the bold way he’d stared at her, as if daring her to shoot—it had tickled something in the back of her mind, and kept her finger from the trigger.

It was a mistake she wouldn’t make a second time. 

Not far from where the ship had swooped in, she saw Obi-Wan standing squared off against the one man in the galaxy she never thought she’d see again. They both had their lightsabers out, but neither had made the first move yet.

In that moment, Sola burned with hatred for both of them. The two of them, with their endless plots and schemes and decisions made on her behalf, over and over again. Trying to “save” her without asking what “saved” looked like for her. Without asking her if she even wanted to be saved.

The two of them, destroying the galaxy a piece at a time.

“Fall back,” she told the remaining soldiers with her, and she stalked forward alone, raising her blaster. She should just shoot them both.

She was in range. She could do it. Closer now, ten meters. Seven. Five.

They both looked to her.

“Padmé.”

Her skin crawled and the hair on the back of her neck stood up at the sound of the voice issuing from that black insectoid mask. _It’s not him, it’s not him anymore_. That voice was nothing like his voice; it was mechanical and cold and yet… she knew the sound of it.

“She died.” Sola’s blaster hand had picked up a tremor, but her voice was strong and sure. “She died and her children died with her.”

“No—”

Obi-Wan silenced him with a gesture of his hand, lowering his lightsaber. Sola couldn’t tell if it was the gesture alone or if he had used the Force, but Vader lowered his weapon as well. “Sola. Put down the blaster.” Obi-Wan and his reasonable, gentle voice, talking to her like she was a child again. 

“Why? I could cripple the Empire, right here and now.”

“Sola… you took your sister’s name. Of course.” He was staring at her—how she could tell that through the mask she didn’t know, but he was. 

“Stop talking to me!” She re-aimed the blaster, centering on the grill where his mouth had once been. 

His posture changed, his shoulders rolling forward and his head dropping and for an eerie moment, she could _see_ the young man he’d been, hair still cropped short, face red with shyness. That tickle in her mind again, although this one accompanied by roiling nausea. She swallowed hard, looking at what that young man had become.

“Both of you!” Obi-Wan’s gentleness fled, and he stepped between them. Sola was reminded of another lifetime; watching Master Kenobi chastise his Padawan. “Stop acting like children. Sola. _Put the blaster down_.”

“Why should I?” She realized she _sounded_ childish, and hated Obi-Wan more for pointing it out.

“We are on the same side right now.” 

Obi-Wan’s words surprised Vader as much as they surprised her; both of them turned to look at him.

“Put down the weapon and listen to me.”

Sola looked between the two men who had destroyed her life trying to save it, and against her better judgment, holstered the blaster. “I’m listening.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell is the truth learned too late.

Han wrestled with the controls of the _Falcon_ , pulling her away from Yavin’s gravity, expecting to be shot out of the sky at any moment. “Take over, Chewie. Yell if you see any trouble.”

Chewie muttered that the trouble had just boarded, but nodded. Han couldn’t argue because Chewie wasn’t wrong. He checked the scanners again for any sign of pursuit, then went back to check on the passengers.

“Were you just going to stand there and let her shoot you?” Leia finished hauling Luke back from the edge of the ramp as Han appeared from the cockpit. 

“She wasn’t going to shoot me.”

Well that much was the same: they were already arguing.

Han couldn’t say what made him decide to follow the twins, ignoring Luke’s advice to get off-planet as soon as possible. Chewbacca had growled and rolled his eyes, but even he had agreed easily. Finding them hadn’t been difficult—they just tracked down any signs of combat. They’d wound up flying over some sort of base first by mistake (and damn near got shot down) before following the billowing smoke to… what? A school? Had that been a school?

Both of the twins were wounded, Han could see, but neither injury appeared to be life-threatening.

Luke looked up at him first, and the hard-eyed kid from the spaceport was gone. Now his eyes were almost haunted. Whatever had happened down there, the two of them had lost, and badly from the look of it. 

“Take us back,” Leia demanded. Her eyes weren’t haunted; they were pure fire. “You’ve got turret guns, we can use them.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. The _Falcon’s_ got turret guns but those troops have an ion cannon. Were the two of you trying to take on the whole Rebel Alliance by yourselves?”

“No, just the Jedi.” Luke tried to sound light, but winced as he flexed his hand. 

“Well, as long as it was nothing crazy.” That earned him a quick grin from Luke and an eyeroll from Leia. “Come on, let’s get you two patched up.”

At first he thought things might be closer to normal—whatever normal was here—but Luke was somewhere far away, and Leia was withdrawn as well. 

“How’d you find us?” Luke asked as Han was bandaging his hand.

“Looked for trouble. Figured you’d be there.” 

Leia sat beside Luke, and rested her chin on her brother’s shoulder. The way she was holding on to him looked to Han a lot like someone looking for comfort. “Why did you?” she asked.

Han met her eyes. He was in over his head with these two, but instead of getting out of the pool like a sane man, here he was, treading water and trying to hold on. “Maybe I was worried. A little.”

“Why?” Leia asked again. 

“I don’t know, maybe because you two lunatics tried to take on a whole army of Jedi by yourselves.”

“Are you in love with my brother?”

“What?” Luke and Han both choked in unison.

“You heard me.”

Han couldn’t even sputter at her. Where the hell had that come from? 

“Leia, stop.” Luke turned his head and kissed her, and that was how Han figured out that Leia was jealous. Of him. 

The sad fact was, he could happily watch the two of them kiss for a very long time. Belatedly, he realized that he was, in fact, still watching them kiss. He cleared his throat, and Luke reached out a hand for him. He reeled Han in, and stopped kissing his sister long enough to kiss Han instead. 

By rights he should be scared to death of both of them, and Leia—yeah, he was a little afraid of her, but in an exhilarating way, like flying right up to the edge of an asteroid field and see how close you could get without getting wrecked. He was dead certain she wanted him and just as certain she was dodging it and that… that was impossible to resist.

This goddamned kid, though. Maybe Leia had it wrong; “love” wasn’t the right word for this, but it was something. Han wasn’t afraid of him, not really. Like his sister, he was pretty and deadly (a combination of traits that always spelled trouble for one Han Solo), but he didn’t have her hard edges, and there was a turmoil in him that his sister didn’t have. It brought out the worst, the stupidest, the most altruistic parts of Han’s character. That made him the more dangerous twin.

Which was probably why he wound up sprawled across the kid’s lap with his hands tangled in his hair and his tongue in Luke’s mouth. If he was going to be honest with himself—for once—this was why he came back. To see what this was, what it meant. 

Leia nudged him aside after several long moments that weren’t long enough, and turned Luke back to her. Han had an even closer view of their kiss this time, glimpses of soft, pink tongues and the feeling of Luke’s cock stirring beneath Han’s ass. 

“Hey, Your Highness, if you don’t want to share him you can just say so,” Han murmured lazily. 

“Shut up.” Leia got to her feet and pulled them both along after her toward the bunks. 

#

Leia was burning. Defeat never sat well with her, and she needed something she could control. Luke she could control. Han she was less certain of. Once they were in their quarters, Han leaned toward her for a kiss and she stopped him with her hand to his chest. “No. You want to watch, so you get to watch.” 

He wanted to do more than that, to both her and Luke, but—control. She had it. They didn’t. Leia pushed Han into the corner before smiling up at Luke. “Come here.” He glanced ruefully at Han, but did as he was told. 

No one knew him the way she did. She’d prove that. 

The last bitter dregs of adrenaline were still coursing through both her veins and Luke’s. She could feel it. Ordinarily that was enough to make him reckless, desperate for her, like that last party at the palace, after the race. Something was holding him back and she didn’t like it. Didn’t trust it. 

She pulled him in to kiss him, determined to close whatever the distance was and bring him back to her. _Mine_. She bit his lower lip as she thought it, knowing he’d hear her. Luke shivered against her, his arms going tight around her waist. _Only ever mine_. 

His answer was to pull her down to the bunk with him, and she felt it then, that spark, an unvoiced, unconscious yes, like his body knew who he belonged to even if he’d temporarily forgotten. Leia straddled him, pinning him down to the sound of both men gasping for breath. She slid her hips against his, teasing herself as much as him, already aching to have him inside her. Her hands tore at the clothing Luke wore, shoving it aside until she reached his skin, curling her nails into it as she bit along his jawline.

He gasped her name as she reached between his legs, palming him through his clothes. At the same time, she felt for his mind and pulled it closer, their thoughts twining. Leia felt his fear and uncertainty and shoved it aside, letting him feel what she felt, letting him see how she was burning, so they could burn together.

Leia glanced at Han, still in his corner watching them. She sat up and undressed quickly, without any flourishes, moving aside enough that Luke could do the same. 

Han murmured a curse, and Leia could feel the intensity of his arousal, how badly he wanted to touch. Any other time, she might have felt pity for him, but Luke’s thoughts were drifting in his direction too, and that needed to stop. She turned her attention to Luke again, pinning him back down to the bunk with her hands. 

His eyes were wide, focused solely on her. _Mine_ , she thought again, and this time he smiled. Leia let him go and sat back, finally taking him into her, almost groaning in relief. As soon as she released his hands, he reached for her and she let him. She had what she wanted and could give in now to her own needs. 

Leia was in his mind as much as he was in her body, and she was finally able to relax, seeing only his absolute devotion, drinking it in as she rocked her hips against his, riding him while he clutched her waist. She arched her back, moaned, dug her fingers into Luke’s arms, savoring the feeling of two pairs of eyes on her, of being on display and untouchable, at least where one of them was concerned. 

Luke’s eyes closed as the two of them got close to orgasm, and Leia took advantage of that to shift her attention, looking over at Han with her teeth pressed to her lower lip. The intensity with which he was staring at her startled even her, and the little moan she gave wasn’t entirely exaggerated. Shivers ran down her spine as she realized she might just be playing a more dangerous game with him than she realized.

Her orgasm burst through her just a heartbeat ahead of Luke’s, and in those few moments the game was forgotten in the haze of pure physical bliss. She slumped against his chest and closed her eyes while he kissed the top of her head. A moment later, she felt the brush of Han’s clothing against her back as he leaned over, kissing Luke so intensely Leia felt and heard him give a weak moan. 

Leia sat back up to watch them for a moment, with Luke still twitching and half-hard inside her. Then Han touched her arm and it was like a circuit snapping closed. Luke’s want became hers; wanting Han was stupid, it was foolish, and it was out of her hands. 

Acting on that want though, was not. 

Leia shrugged off his hand and rolled to Luke’s side. “I didn’t say you could join us.”

Han stopped kissing Luke long enough to grin at her. “What, I don’t deserve a thank you for saving your lives?”

She rolled her eyes. “Thank you for saving our lives. Go away.”

“Leia,” Luke protested, but Leia held firm. Han kissed Luke again, then reluctantly, they parted and Han left with a backward glance and a shake of his head.

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t trust him.” Leia curled up against Luke. “And besides. We need to talk about what happened. And what we do now.” 

The destruction of the Death Star had thrown most of their plans into disarray, and it was going to take time to come up with new ones.

#

“No.” That was all Sola could say. She said it quietly, but everything inside her was screaming it. Her anger didn’t burn her anymore. She was made of ice. 

_My children are alive._

“Sola, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan was saying, but Sola had no interest in his words anymore.

“Don’t speak to me. You knew. _You knew all this time_.” Sola turned her attention to the ghoul that had been her husband. Her body didn’t feel like hers, nothing felt real as she moved like she was underwater. “And you. Your own children. What kind of a monster would—” 

All of it hit her then. The smoke rising from corpses around the school. The children that might have died if Obi-Wan hadn’t sent them away. More younglings dead at Skywalker hands. She staggered a few steps away from the men and doubled over, violently sick.

_My children are alive and I wish they were dead._

Her babies. Sweet, placid Luke and active, curious Leia. It was too big for tears. Too big for screams. The layers of ice were thickening around her, and soon she’d stop feeling anything.

_I carried those beasts in my body._ She retched again, falling to her knees with the force of it.

Black-gloved hands closed around her arms to help her to her feet. They weren’t Obi-Wan’s hands.

“Don’t touch me.” Words snarled with deadly quiet. Frozen. The hands let her go. She was dimly aware of the Pathfinders, disobeying her orders and rushing to her as one. 

Sola got to her feet and drew her blaster again, pointing it at Vader. As the Pathfinders reached her she nodded toward him. “Take him into custody.” To her surprise, he didn’t put up a fight, but let them lead him away.

Obi-Wan started to speak, but she raised her hand. “Save your lies for someone else. You are no longer welcome on any Alliance base where I am. If I need the Jedi’s help, you will send someone else in your place.” She wished, desperately, that she could cut all ties with the Jedi, but the Alliance needed them too much and no matter what had happened, the Alliance came first. 

She started to follow the Pathfinders, but Obi-Wan’s voice stopped her.

“Sola, it’s not too late for them. For any of them.”

Sola turned back to him. “It is too late. You made sure of that twenty years ago.” 

#

Deep in the _Millennium Falcon’s_ night cycle, Luke lay in his bunk with his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. Leia was sound asleep beside him, but his mind wouldn’t turn off. 

Of all things, he kept seeing the Jedi he’d dueled and killed. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the man smiling at him.

_You’re talented. But you could be more._

And Obi-Wan Kenobi, echoing those words. 

That Jedi would never be anything again, because of Luke. Of all the deaths he and Leia had been responsible for at the school, why was that one hanging over him now? He didn’t even know the man’s name. Old enough to be his father, strong enough to defeat him, brought down in the end by his unwillingness to kill. 

_You could be more_.

The growing sense of unease drove him out of the bunk. He pulled on his clothes and went wandering the dark and quiet ship, unsure what he was looking for. As he walked, he thought about the woman, the rebel who didn’t shoot him. Something about her… she was familiar, although he’d swear that he’d never seen her before today. 

Han was alone in the _Falcon’s_ cockpit, and looked up with Luke poked his head in. “Hey kid. You manage to sneak away from your keeper?”

“Sorry about that.” Luke settled into the empty co-pilot’s chair, and leaned his head back against it. He tried to remember when was the last time he’d apologized to someone who wasn’t Leia—when he’d felt the need to, and meant it. “Our trip was for nothing. Leia doesn’t take losing well.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” Han’s voice was drier than a desert planet. “Look, I know it’s not any of my business—”

“But you’re going to say it anyway.”

“You seem different.” 

“How so?” Maybe Han could explain what he couldn’t.

Han grinned, the expression visible in the running lights from the control panel. “For one thing, you’re not threatening to take my head off for calling you kid anymore.”

Luke gave a surprised laugh. “Maybe the time away from the palace has done me some good.” Since they’d left Coruscant, he’d taken a new lover, killed his first man with a lightsaber, lost a battle… Were all those enough to add up to the shift that Han and Leia both saw? 

“Maybe you should take some more time away,” Han said. “I just got paid a load of credits from some arrogant, annoying Core Worlders, I can afford to take some time off.”

“Hey, one of those arrogant, annoying Core Worlders is still second in line for the Imperial throne, you know.” Even as he said it, Luke felt the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“That means you can take as much time away as you want, right?”

Luke shook his head. “Not as much as you think.” The odd rush of affection he felt for Han was unfamiliar and unsettling. He’d gotten so used to seeing people as tools, or goals—except for Leia, of course. And now, apparently, a low-rent Corellian smuggler with a ship held together with nothing but willpower and glue.

“Come on, what do you say?” Han turned the pilot’s chair toward him and leaned over, eyebrows raised. “Pick a star and we’ll head there. Hell, we can even bring your sister. Where do you want to go?”

Luke glanced away smiling, looking out the Falcon’s viewport. By now the Emperor would be livid that they were gone. The thought pleased him. Leia would hate it; she was already agitating to get back to court and away, he suspected, from Han Solo. Luke wanted to watch how that situation played out. As well as knew Leia, her reactions to Han weren’t just jealousy, and Leia almost never backed away from someone she wanted. In a few days, one of them would crack.

“I don’t know. You pick.” 

Just a few more days. Then they could go back to Coruscant and pick up the pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say thank you again to persian-slipper, who really went above and beyond in helping me beta and plot this monster, and has been a constant sounding board as I plot the monsters that will be stories 2 and 3 in the arc (Bespin is going to prove particularly interesting, as is Endor...). Also thanks to prettyarbitrary and wintergrey, the original enablers without whom this wouldn't have happened, vulgarweed for pinch-hit betaing for me, and, of course, the [original artist who inspired the whole damn thing with their manip](http://tumblr.selkie.net/post/139301413422/ohtze-hhuxx-in-which-anakin-gets-to-raise). And YOU, of course, for reading this far. 
> 
> Story 2 is currently untitled, but is underway. Rumor has it the twins died on the Death Star, and the galaxy is a _mess_...


End file.
